


Are You With Me?

by kristen999



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e15 Eddie Begins, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28792575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristen999/pseuds/kristen999
Summary: The tunnel rescue happened. Eddie survived; it was time to move on, to explore this new thing with Buck.  But it’s hard to move forward when you’re stuck somewhere else. And Eddie’s never been good at getting unstuck.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 107
Kudos: 297





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:Thank you to Stellarmeadow and Gaelicspirit for their awesome beta and suggestions! I couldn’t have done this without either of you!
> 
> I’ve never stopped and started a fic as many times as I did with this one, but this was really important to me on a personal level and I wanted to get it right. Please review the tags as this story deals with mental health and coping topics.
> 
> This story is complete and I will post chapters as I edit.

Eddie stared at the assorted box of teas, picking up one and scanning the label before putting it back down. Each box said the same thing: calming, relaxing, soothing bedtime formula. He settled on chamomile. His mother used to drink it when he was a kid, and his father was away on business. Funny—it was made of flowers, not leaves. 

Heating a pot of water, Eddie leaned against the counter and stared into the darkness. He had no idea what time it was and he didn’t want to look at the clock knowing he would only start counting the minutes until his alarm went off. It was late, too late to get any decent sleep, but he had to try. 

His whole body ached, his brain hurt, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone through the whole night without waking up, to comfort Christopher, to answer the phone when Buck was suffering from his own insomnia and worry–over _Eddie._

The tea kettle whistled, startling Eddie out of his daze. He grabbed the kettle before the noise woke Chris and poured the water over the tea bag to let it steep. 

Glancing at the doorway, Eddie wondered if his son could go through a year without another trauma and just live a happy life like so many his age. 

Sipping his tea, Eddie hoped he could scrap together three hours in a row before his next shift.

* * *

His head felt light as a feather when he hit the pillow, but no matter how long he waited, sleep never came. 

Eddie eventually got up, moving around his bedroom on autopilot, pulling out the clothes he needed for work. Removing his nightshirt and throwing it in the hamper, Eddie walked into the bathroom to take a shower. He paused in front of the mirror in morbid fascination and stared at the faded bruises over his chest from the CPR performed on him. 

The bruises would fade soon, the cracked rib would heal in a couple more weeks, the coughing would end. Then, he’d finally return to full duty instead of being stuck with paperwork.

* * *

Coffee wired Eddie’s brain and a hot shower loosened tight muscles, but he still felt like he was nursing a hangover minus the pleasure that came with alcohol. 

But Christopher woke up at a normal time and that was a win in his book. Watching Chris eat his oatmeal, Eddie absently grabbed coloring books from the shelf and stuffed them into his son’s book bag. 

“Dad?”

Eddie sat the book bag down on the chair. “Yeah?”

“Do you dream?”

“Sometimes. Why?”

Chris looked up at Eddie, his forehead scrunching in thought. “Where do they come from?”

“Dreams?”

“Uh-huh.”

It took a moment before Eddie figured out the easiest way to articulate the answer. “Well, sometimes they’re stories or images we think about when we’re asleep.”

Christopher’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “So, we make them?” 

“Not on purpose, it’s more like…they can be part of our memories or our thoughts….” Eddie rubbed his burning eyes, not sure where this conversation was going. “Did you dream about something that confused you?”

“I dreamed that Buck lived with us.”

It was Eddie’s turn to be surprised. “Really?”

Chris slowly got down from his chair and grabbed his forearm crutches. “Yeah, he helped cook dinner and we didn’t have to go to his house to hang out.”

Eddie laughed, running a hand through Christopher’s hair. “That would save on gas, wouldn’t it?”

Christopher started pulling out the coloring books Eddie had picked out and stuffed different ones inside his bag. Eddie almost asked Chris more about his dream, if his son was happy in it, if Buck slept on the sofa or….

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

Chris snickered. “You were staring at the air.”

They were going to have to stop at Starbucks before swinging by Buck’s. “All right, let’s go,” he started ushering them out the door. “Or your dad’s going to be late.”

* * *

Most of the time, Eddie and Buck shared the same shifts, but occasionally, their schedules differed. The tunnel rescue and Eddie’s hospitalization had shaken Christopher. And after Buck suggested it, Eddie realized how much it would help Christopher to hang out with one of his favorite people.

Buck opened the door with a smirk. “I thought I was going to have to send a search party for you two.”

Christopher snickered while he went inside, Buck smiling at him.

“Yeah, we got stuck in traffic.” Eddie checked his watch with a frown. “Cap’s going to kill me.”

“I highly doubt that.” Buck was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, his hair damp from a shower. “Hey. I have some left-over croissants and eggs.”

“Sorry, no time.”

Buck rested a hand on Eddie’s arm. “One of the things I’ve learned recently is that we spend too much of life racing around and not enough of it enjoying the simple moments in life.”

Before Eddie had a chance to politely refuse, Buck started leading him toward the kitchen. “I bought this new grass-fed butter, it’s just amazing.”

“Grass-fed butter? What does that actually mean?”

Buck stood in the middle of his kitchen and handed Eddie a pastry. “That the cows eat grass?” 

Eddie took the offered croissant, pausing in thought. “True.”

Somehow, Buck beamed even brighter. “Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift.” He held up his buttered pastry. “And we should enjoy this gift.”

“You been reading new-age books again?”

“It’s called mindfulness, Eddie. And yes, I have. Ever since, well you know…,” Buck shrugged. 

Yeah, Eddie knew. But he also realized that the hour he was missing was just as terrifying for those who feared they’d lost him. Even more so for Buck who had been the one who had to keep Eddie stabilized after his brush with near-drowning and hypothermia. 

Eddie took a bite of his breakfast. The croissant really was heavenly. He wiped crumbs away from his fingers, distracted by the little dab of butter at the edge of Buck’s mouth. “I really need to go.”

“When’s your sit down with Cap?”

“After my next medical evaluation on Monday. Still on light duty until then.”

“Hey, I know what it’s like. Trust me. But it’s only been a little two weeks you know? I mean, you almost….” Buck stared at Eddie’s chest, swallowing. “It was a close call.”

Eddie reached out and rested a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “But I’m good now. And in a few days, we’ll all return to normal.”

“Speaking of, you’re off on Friday, right?

“Yeah?” How did Buck know that? Did Eddie say something and forget?

“And Carla said she could look after Chris just in case you needed a night to decompress?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s go out.”

“What?” Eddied asked, surprised. “I don’t know…I really should catch up on some sleep….”

“We need to cherish every day.” Buck gestured while he spoke. “Finish today’s light-duty shift. Sleep all day tomorrow, then come out with me on Friday.” When Eddie hesitated, Buck raised an eyebrow. “What pressing things do you need to do? Sort your sock drawer or, I know, paint the inside of your closets? I mean, when’s the last time you let off a little steam?”

Eddie wasn’t about to defend how he spent his time off, even if he couldn’t remember the last time he went out for fun. “Yeah, okay. I can grab few drinks with you.”

Buck clapped his hands. “Awesome. Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

During his shift Eddie did equipment inventories, reviewed the more recent protocols, and used the treadmill for over an hour. His muscles were heavy, his eyelids even heavier, but all he did when he went to bed that night was stare at the ceiling.

He woke up before the alarm clock went off and dragged himself to his feet to help Chris get ready for school.

* * *

He had eight hours before Chris got home. Grocery shopping and laundry wouldn’t get done on their own. 

Eddie wandered outside in search of the mail, blinking against the bright sunlight. Sifting through the pile as he walked, Eddie flipped through advertisements, the phone bill, his credit card bill, and a letterhead he didn’t recognize.

_Law Office of Kenneth Hiller, PLLC._

He stared at the envelope in confusion.

A jeep sped down the street. Eddie held up his hand against the blinding reflection from one of the mirrors. For the briefest of moments he felt the need to duck behind his truck for cover. But his feet remained rooted in place and he resisted the sudden urge to bolt until the vehicle went around the corner. 

Releasing a shaky breath, Eddie went back inside. If he didn’t get everything done he needed to today, there was no way he’d ever be able to meet Buck tomorrow.

* * *

It was almost ten at night and Eddie still felt wired and frayed around the edges. Instead of tea, he took a sleeping pill left over from the prescription his doctor had given him after his mandatory therapy last summer.

He woke in the middle of the night soaked in sweat and with no idea why his body was shaking.

He threw away the prescription bottle the following morning.

* * *

Buck fiddled with his phone as he went through his emails. Doctor’s appointments, bill reminders, and his daily affirmation. He scrolled to that message.

_To think in terms of either pessimism or optimism oversimplifies the truth. The problem is to see reality as it is._

He found that reading got him out of tough spots in the past. Researching natural disasters helped him navigate his thoughts after the tsunami, reading about living for the current day helped put things in perspective about the paths in life.

Settling down on the sofa, Buck stretched out, letting his thoughts drift. To the moment lightning struck, creating and explosion that buried his best friend under forty feet of Earth. To the moment he clawed the ground, willing to dig with his bare hands to reach him.

He’ll always remember the way the rest of his crew placated him when they all thought Eddie was dead. 

It wasn’t until after the tunnel rescue, after the moment he thought Eddie was gone forever, that Buck made the biggest realization of all: his feelings for Eddie went beyond platonic. His heart raced around Eddie; being around him filled Buck with happiness and wants and desires. 

But despite all his daily reading, Buck had no idea how to find the path he wanted to be with Eddie. Or if he even should.

* * *

When Buck walked into the bar, he spotted Eddie on the far left dressed casually in jeans and a white Henley. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually make it,” Buck teased, taking the next stool.

Eddie snorted and handed him a basket of pretzels. “I go out.”

Buck tried not to laugh out loud. Eddie occasionally went out with the rest of the crew or with Buck, but he couldn’t remember the last time that happened. 

Eddie signaled the bar keeper. “Two shots of Espolòn tequila.”

Buck’s eyebrows shot up. “Fancy.”

“Only tequila is good tequila. Besides. I owe you. For what you’ve been doing for Christopher.”

The sincerity in Eddie’s voice sent a warm tingle down Buck’s spine that had nothing to do with the liquor. “Whatever I can do to help. How’s he doing?”

Eddie downed his shot. “He still has nightmares. Not as frequent since the accident. But I think seeing me in the hospital so soon after his mother died…it really shook him up.”

 _Ouch._ Buck hadn’t realized the depth of Chris’s problems. He swallowed, trying hard not to allow guilt to bubble up inside him again. “Must be rough. What about you?” Buck studied Eddie’s face, noticing the drawn expression, the tension in his body. “How are you doing?”

Eddie didn’t talk about the rescue. It was as if almost drowning fifty feet underground, or the fact that Buck was the one who kept Eddie’s heart in normal rhythm for over twenty minutes on the way to the ER, was no big deal. 

“I’m good. You know. Busy. Work. Home.” His gaze drifted to the glass in his hand. “I’m just worried about my son.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck could feel Eddie’s frustration. “He hasn’t said anything to me, either. I’d tell you if he did.”

“I know you would. It’s just…going to take time, you know?” Eddie narrowed his eyes in thought. 

“Time does help. I mean, it took me forever to realize it after the tsunami…. You get sucked into your own dark thoughts and they just keep pulling you into this pit…,” Buck cleared his throat, gazing at Eddie. “That is, until someone reaches out to lend you a hand.” 

Eddie squinted at him in confusion. “Hey, that was all Christopher. He’s amazing, like sunshine in a paper bag. You two saved each other and…I couldn’t be any prouder.”

Buck had to do everything in his power not to blurt out what he was feeling in that moment. The way Eddie beamed when he talked about his son, the softness of his hair, his eyes—if Buck wasn’t careful, he’d wrap himself around Eddie like a giant sloth and never let go.

* * *

Buck didn’t intend to get drunk. Not just drunk, but the affectionate and uncoordinated type of inebriation. He hung on Eddie’s shoulder as they stumbled out into the parking lot. Okay, Buck was the one tripping over his two feet while Eddie was smirking as he guided Buck safely around other people who were coming in for a late-night drink.

“I don’t get it; I’m not a lightweight.”

“I had a big dinner before coming out; I bet you didn’t,” Eddie pointed out. 

“You drank nothing but water,” Buck pouted. “Not fair.”

“I had water _with_ every drink. There’s a difference.”

“You always have to be in control of everything, don’t you? I mean this was supposed to be your night to unwind, let things go…release some stress.”

Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, but he didn’t say anything. Buck was too mesmerized by the long line of Eddie’s jaw to comment. “You’re very pretty,” he blurted out loud.

Eddie paused, not in shock, not in horror, just a long look before he started nudging Buck along again. “Okay. Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Buck’s jeep was easy to spot.

Eddie drove Buck home and even helped him to the door. “Do you have electrolytes or Gatorade?”

“Would you like to come inside and check?”

Eddie looked dangerous when he smiled like that, and for a moment Buck thought he was going to take him up on his offer. 

“Good night, Buck,” Eddie said instead.

* * *

_Shit._

Buck woke up with a monster headache and a case of second-hand embarrassment…at himself. 

Did he really hit on Eddie last night? Shit. It wasn’t like Buck hadn’t been wanting to, but that wasn’t the plan. 

Then the tequila happened. Not to mention Eddie remained mostly sober when all Buck wanted was for him to have a good time.

It was four in the morning, but Buck didn’t want to wait until a semi-decent time to ensure everything was cool between them.

“Hey, just wanted to apologize for tonight,” he texted. “Didn’t mean to go all happy-octopus on you.”

_Everything’s all good._

Buck squinted at the response before typing: “Why are you still up?”

_Couldn’t sleep._

Buck had a fuzzy recollection of Eddie mentioning a battle with insomnia.

“That sucks. I’ll bring you a book I read recently that might help on Monday.”

_Sure. Thanks._

Buck fired off a smiley face, glad he didn’t screw things up while thinking of a time to try again. 

Obviously, Eddie wasn’t upset. That was a plus. He’d been more worried about Christopher and was probably not really in the right headspace for anything else. 

Buck looked around the room, trying to remember which book helped with insomnia, curious how long Eddie had been struggling with it. He never mentioned it before, even though it sounded like an on-going problem. In fact, Buck wondered if Eddie would have ever brought it up it if wasn’t for a couple of beers. 

Yawning, Buck decided he should crawl into his bed first then look for the book when he woke up. He was sure with a few good tips Eddie would be as good as new, ready to tackle the world together like they always did.

* * *

_Eddie couldn’t breathe. The fire was in the walls, spreading overhead, pieces of ceiling falling everywhere. His lungs burned with every breath. The heat was unbearable, pressing in on him from all directions, sweat pouring down his face. He crawled on his hands and knees, searching for a way out, dark smoke filling every open space._

_“Help!”_

_His chest tightened at the sound of Buck’s panicked voice. Where was he?_

_“Buck!” he yelled, his voice sputtering into a choking rasp._

_He inched toward the door, keeping his head low, his eyes watering from debris-filled smoke._

_“Eddie!”_

_Knowing the door would be hot, Eddie rammed it open with his shoulder, the door giving way—into the desert._

_He stared in horror as high wind blew swirls of burning sand toward his face…._

Eddie bolted up from where he fell asleep on the sofa, his chest heaving. He gasped, his body fighting to take in more oxygen, his eyes tearing as his throat closed in even more. 

He stumbled about until he leaned against the wall with his hands, his brain frantic. Finally, reflex and biology worked in sync. He panted in between coughing fits, finally drawing in enough oxygen to calm down and breathe normal.

“Dad?”

Pushing off the wall, Eddie wavered toward his son standing in the hallway. “Hey, buddy.”

Christopher peered at him anxiously. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie said still trying to steady his breath. “Just had a bad dream is all.”

“You were coughing really bad.”

“I know.” Eddie knelt and rubbed his hands up and down Christopher’s arms in reassurance. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you still sick?”

During the well rescue, Eddie aspirated water resulting in the beginnings of pneumonia. Hence one of the reasons for light duty. “No, I’m fine. I’m…,” Eddie pressed hand to his chest. “It’s just residual stuff. I’m good. I promise.”

“Are you sure?” 

Christopher still sounded scared and it was Eddie’s job to ensure he felt safe. “I’m sure. My lungs are still a little sore and they get irritated if I breathe too hard or too fast. But I’m good. I promise.” Eddie stood up and took Christopher’s hand and started leading him into the hallway. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Why were you sleeping in the living room?”

Eddie honestly had no idea. “I must have drifted off watching TV.”

Waiting until his son got back into bed, Eddie bent down and kissed him goodnight. “See if you can get back to sleep? I don’t want you to be too tired for school.”

“What about you? Will you be able to go back to sleep?”

“I’ll probably count sheep or something.”

“That never works.”

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, but it’s worth trying.”

* * *

After seeing Christopher off to school, Eddie started cleaning. He had three hours before reporting for his medical evaluation, then his meeting with Bobby.

Vacuuming took time, so did the dishes. He started in on his room, pulling out drawers and rearranging things.

_“What pressing things do you need to do? Sort your sock drawer?”_

Biting his lip, Eddie closed his dresser drawer. Buck. Eddie wasn’t always the most observant about social cues, but he knew Buck was hinting at something, or was _trying_ to, before Eddie had bought another round. Something that made all the hair along his neck stand up in anticipation. 

Growling under his breath, Eddie grabbed some boxes he meant to tidy up weeks ago. Stuff that needed organizing. Opening and inspecting the contents, he found the box he’d taken to Christopher’s show and tell. 

What the hell had he been thinking, leaving this stuff out? 

“You really were oxygen starved,” he mumbled out loud. 

He pulled out the black box containing his Silver Star. The tiny bit of metal was the only time his father had beamed with pride looking at him. With a sigh, Eddie opened his closet door and pulled out the metal lockbox he never actually kept secure and set it on top of the bed. 

_This would explain how prying, curious people were able to find his stuff,_ he chastised himself.

Opening the lockbox, Eddie thumbed through the rest of the contents: his and Christopher's birth certificates, insurance forms. He fingered his marriage certificate with heaviness inside his chest and ignored another document just underneath it.

He picked up another leather-encased certificate, flipping it open and scanned the inside.

_From the Armed Forces of the United States of America. This is to certify that E-6 Staff Sergeant Edmundo Diaz was Honorably Discharged from the United State Army._

He closed the flap and stored it. He put his Silver Star away, ignoring the other boxes, his Purple Hearts, Army Achievement Medals. Ignored it all.

He took the metal box and returned it to his closet, shoving it into the back and closing the door. Leaning both hands against the door, Eddie lowered his head and took several ragged breaths to calm his suddenly racing heart, his hand absently rubbing at his shoulder.

* * *

Eddie sat quietly at the table while Bobby scanned the files in front of him. The medical evaluation had gone smoothly, despite his most recent coughing fit, and he was eager to return to work.

Closing the file, Bobby leaned back in his chair. “Dr. Hanaar cleared you for full duty.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How are you _really_ feeling? Cracked bones knit, lungs recover. But the body sometimes needs a few more minutes.”

The Army taught Eddie a lot, including always being honest with your CO. Hiding injuries were frowned upon because not only did it impact your health, but also the overall safety of your unit.

“I’d say I’m at 90 or 95%. I might get winded if I go too hard. The rib doesn’t bother me unless you poke at it.”

Bobby nodded. “And your mental health?”

“Sir?”

“You were trapped inside a drill well flooding with water.”

Eddie straightened in his chair. “But I found my way out.”

“You did.”

“Listen Cap, I’m fine. It was a scary situation, terrifying in fact. I’d be a liar if I said otherwise.” He contemplated his hands on the table before glancing back up at his boss. “Sleeping has been tough, but I’m working through it.” He tilted his head back and forth. “I think my time overseas helped, though; gave me the tools needed to focus on what had to do…which was to back those who needed me. Get back to my family. _And I did.”_

Bobby studied Eddie’s face before gathering the file. “It’s Monday. I’ll put you on the full duty roster for Friday. In the meantime, would you mind continuing to put those Army skills to good use and finish re-writing our maintenance procedures?”

Eddie laughed, relived. “No problem. Thank you.” He rose to his feet and held out his hand. “I appreciate it.”

* * *

Whenever the station got a call, Eddie desperately wanted to jump up and go with his crew to the scene. It made Buck’s struggle with retuning to work after his leg injury even more poignant. But Eddie could wait a few more days and finish updating the department’s outdated manuals, saving the captain some much needed time. 

His phone rang and Eddie picked it up without looking at the caller ID. “This is Eddie.”

_“Mr. Diaz, this is Henry Blankenship from the law office of Kenneth Hiller. I’m contacting you regarding your wife’s estate.”_

Eddie closed his eyes and pinched his nose. “My wife didn’t have an estate; she rented an apartment.”

_“Shannon Diaz recently inherited property from her mother and the status of that is still probate while we work out certain details.”_

“Okay?”

_“As Mrs. Diaz’s husband, you are the beneficiary of that estate, but said property has a substantial amount of back taxes owed.”_

It took a moment before Eddie’s brain figured out what the lawyer was talking about. “Wait. What does that have to do with me?”

_“It means, Mr. Diaz, that you need to come down to our office so we can discuss this further.”_

* * *

Eddie dunked the mop into the bucket before slapping it down onto the concrete floor, brushing it side to side, completing one section of floor and retuning to another. It was rhythmic: dunking, slapping, swinging the mop around, then wringing out the water by pressing the bucket lever and repeating the whole process. 

“Whoa, what are you doing?”

Eddie didn’t look up at Buck while he continued mopping. “What does it look like?”

“Manual labor.”

“Yeah, well, there’s your answer.”

“If you mop any harder, we might be able to eat off the floor,” Chim said walking by.

Pulling up the mop, Eddie shoved it into the yellow bucket again. “Well, that means I’m doing it right.”

Buck grabbed the mop handle, stopping Eddie from jerking it away, his voice thicker. “Seriously, are you okay?”

Eddie ground his teeth and looked up at Buck; some of the anger bleeding out at seeing his friend’s concerned expression, the way his focus was one hundred percent focused on Eddie. “I’m just annoyed.”

“Why?”

Instinct told Eddie to brush everything off, but he was trying hard to break some of his bad habits. He still held onto the wooden handle but didn’t try to pull it out of Buck’s grip. “A lawyer called, said something about Shannon's estate, and how I have meet with them. And I…I just don’t know.” He shook his head. 

“That sucks.” Buck let go of the mop handle and stepped closer, his gear smelling of a dirt and outside. “Maybe, we could you know, grab a bite to eat tonight and talk about it?”

“Thanks. Maybe another night.”

“You sure?” Buck looked around the room then back at Eddie. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the other–”

“Hey, Buck. Cap needs you,” Hen called out from the balcony.

Buck stared at Eddie like he’d done something wrong, a sad, wounded look capturing his expression. Eddie couldn’t allow his problems to cause others pain. He rested a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “I said we’re good and I mean it. In fact, you’re like the most stable thing going on with me right now.”

Eddie bit his lip after the admission, but Buck’s eyes went from anxious to bright, a shy grin tugging at his lips. “Oh, well, that’s good. Um, when I’m done with the Cap, I’ll give you the book I promised.”

“You might want to take a shower first.” Eddie pointed at Buck’s coat, noting that it was covered in orange dirt _and glitter?_ “Do I want to even know?”

“Probably not.” 

Buck took another look at the floor. “Do you realize you, like, mopped the whole garage floor?”

Eddie looked down in curiosity. “Huh.”

“Guess it helps all the trucks were pulled out to be cleaned. Hey, want to clean my loft next?”

“Go on, before you make the Cap wait any longer.”

Buck winked at him and _damn_ if it didn’t fill his chest with something unexpected. Something warm and….

Eddie turned around and attacked the mop bucket so hard it almost toppled over, his entire body humming with more energy than he knew what to do with.

* * *

The one thing Buck had learned about life the hard way was that it had horrible timing. He made these eye-opening revelations in the 8th inning of a blow-out game. He spent years fumbling about life going as far as trying out for the SEALs when, in truth, all he wanted was to help people. 

It took him almost a year before he realized Abby was never coming back, or he harbored more than platonic feelings for his best friend. And now that he’d realized the depth of those emotions—he had no idea what to do about it.

The flu spread like wildfire throughout the firehouse, taking out ten members, which meant double shifts and not enough time to juggle a string of calls. Not to mention Eddie’s angry phone calls with the lawyer at various corners of the firehouse and frantic pacing outside sucking up any remaining spare time. 

“Hey, Buck. Could you spot me?”

“Of course.”

Buck stood behind the bench press while Eddie lay on his back. It was a ridiculously amazing view, given Eddie was dressed in a black sleeveless shirt and shorts. 

“Um...do you need help lifting the bar up?” Buck asked after finding his voice. 

After a few adjustments, Eddie looked up at Buck peering down at him. “Yeah.”

Buck lifted the bar off from the rack and slowly lowered it until Eddie reached up and took it with his hands. “How many reps do you want?” 

“Ten.”

During the set, Buck knew not to touch the bar, letting Eddie do all the work. His job was to keep his eyes on Eddie to see if he required help, ready to step in if he needed. 

But his eyes kept drifting over the length of Eddie’s chest, all the way down to his well-defined thighs. Buck swallowed. Eddie was a beautiful display of hard-work and dedication: fit, but not over-muscled. 

Buck couldn’t help staring at the way Eddie squeezed his shoulders together as he lifted up the weights, forcing his back into the bench, flexing his biceps, the planes of his chest tightening with every motion, his feet pushing against the floor to keep his body in place.

Sweat beaded across Eddie’s face, over his throat and down his arms as he lifted. 

“Ten,” Buck said out loud.

“Twelve.”

“Eighteen.”

Buck found himself lost in the rhythm, his heart beating to every inhale and exhale. His throat dry. 

Were they at twenty? Twenty-five? It seemed like a lot, but Eddie kept going. Pushing himself harder and harder. Which didn’t seem like a good idea given his rib had just healed. 

“Buck?”

“Hmmm?”

“The rack?” Eddie grunted, his arm trembling with the strain. 

“Oh yeah, sorry.” Buck took the bar from Eddie’s hands, placing it back onto the rack. 

Eddie stared up at Buck, his chest rising and falling. “Did you get distracted?”

Buck swallowed. “No. I mean…I just zoned out a little. I don’t think I was the only one.”

Getting up from the bench, Eddie grabbed his towel hanging from one of the other racks and hung it over his neck, avoiding eye contact. “I just got lost in my head, that’s all.”

Eddie walked toward the showers, his shoulder brushing against Buck as he walked away, the contact sending tendrils of exhilaration down Buck’s spine.

If Eddie weren’t already going into the washroom, Buck would have run into the nearest shower and turned the knob all the way to freezing.

* * *

Buck avoided working out at the same time as Eddie, though that was easier said than done, since they were back working the same schedule. Friday was Eddie’s first night back on full duty and, of course, it was a wild night. 

Being on call was a life built upon interruptions. One moment Buck and Eddie were discussing the science behind hot peppers, and the next they were jumping to the sound of the alarm.

They arrived on a scene of a car accident. One vehicle was on fire, the other was a station wagon stuck on a set of train tracks, the horn of the locomotive blaring from less than a mile away. 

Chim and Hen went toward the burning car; Buck grabbed the jaws of life and ran toward the station wagon, Eddie hot on his heels. 

Carrying the spreaders, Buck pounded on the driver-side window. “Ma’am?” But the woman was unconscious. 

Eddie took his pro-bar and smashed apart the windows. “LAFD! Ma’am can you hear us?”

Eddie stepped away while Buck inserted the jaws at the door. Buck’s heart raced while he worked the jaws, muscles quivering, heart pounding while the freight train blasted its horn.

“You’ve got it,” Eddie encouraged, never moving from Buck’s side, ready to assist.

“Guys!” Bobby yelled in warning.

It was working. Buck channeled all his strength into the handles. “Just...one…second…more….”

“We don’t have one,” Eddie warned, pressing a hand on Buck’s shoulder.

Breaks screeching, the train barreled toward them. 

He almost had it. He just needed another fraction of an inch. Buck twisted the jaws just so….

The door broke away. Buck tossed the jaws to the ground. Eddie cut away her seatbelt with a knife and grabbed the woman’s arms and started yanking her through the opening Buck has just created. 

The train horn blew again. 

Buck scrambled, helping Eddie pull their victim out and dove away from the tracks seconds before the train crashed into the unmoving vehicle.

* * *

Two hours later, and an hour after the end of their shift, Buck’s body was still riding a wave of endorphins and adrenaline. 

Leaning against the side of Eddie’s truck in the parking lot, Buck watched the night sky, his heart running like a buzz saw inside his chest. He had no idea what he was doing or what he expected to happen when Eddie arrived.

Buck didn’t have long to wait. He heard footsteps in the parking lot and looked up to find Eddie suddenly standing in front of him.

The tension in the air was thick, like a growing electric charge. Staring at Eddie, Buck’s mind went blank, any words he might’ve said evaporating at the tip of his tongue. 

Eddie’s breathing was heavy, his shoulders tenser than a bow. And he kept staring at him in a way Buck had never seen. His eyes laser-focused on Buck’s lips, then shifted down to his chest. 

God, Eddie looked amazing like this: his hair wet and messy from a shower, his clothes damp over his skin. 

They both stood silent, still, radiating energy, until Buck couldn’t take it anymore. “Tell me you’ve thought of kissing me.” It was practically an order.

Eddie swallowed, not immediately answering. Buck had enough for the both of them. 

“We were seconds away from death. Not just seconds—inches. And I don’t know about you, but life’s too short to be lost on wasted moments.” Buck stepped close enough to watch drops of water slip from the short strands of Eddie’s hair to trace unsteady patterns down his forehead. “So, tell me. Have you ever thought about kissing me?”

“Yes. I do think about kissing you.” Eddie’s voice was rough, strangled in a way Buck had never really heard before.

Buck’s brain went from _huh_ to _oh_ in about two point two seconds. “What? I mean…. Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what are you waiting–”

Eddie took Buck’s face with both hands, bringing Buck’s mouth against his. The kiss was fast and strong, as though Eddie had held back for so long, he’d put all his energy into this very moment. 

Buck returned the passion, tasting Eddie’s mouth, gripping his arms. 

“Um,” Buck said after his third huff for air.

Eddie’s chest heaved, his whole body shaking. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, no. You absolutely should have. In fact, I think we should do it again.”

* * *

Buck’s loft was thankfully only a five-minute drive from the station. He and Eddie took the stairs leading up to his bedroom two at a time. 

They had barely made it up the flight when Eddie started tugging at Buck’s t-shirt. Buck just managed to pull it over his head when Eddie started tracing the lines of Buck’s collarbone, the sensation of Eddie’s fingers over his skin making Buck shiver. 

"So, we're...," Buck gasped as Eddie’s hands went lower, down each rib, over his abdomen, before they started working the zipper to his pants. "We're doing this now? I thought we...well, I don't know what I thought. We've never really exactly _discussed...."_

Eddie started jerking Buck’s pants down to his ankles.

Buck returned the favor, fumbling with Eddie’s clothes, removing his shirt, pushing Eddie's pants and underwear to the floor. Heart racing, he took his time tracing the outlines of Eddie’s thighs, up his sides, running the flat of his hands over his pecs, Eddie’s chest heaving faster and faster as Buck enjoyed feeling the muscles underneath. 

_God,_ Buck loved seeing Eddie like this, wild and eager. “Jesus, Eds, look at you.” 

“Come here.” Eddie hands caressed Buck’s face then pulled him in for a deep, desperate kiss, until he finally pulled away. "Let me fuck you," Eddie muttered. 

Buck almost forgot how to breathe. "Yes. Let’s do that.”

“But first….” Eddie lightly pushed against Buck’s shoulders until he was pressed against the wall next to his bed. Then Eddie sank to his knees and pulled down Buck’s underwear and buried his face in Buck's groin, tasting and licking. 

“Oh, God,” Buck groaned, his legs trembling. 

Eddie took Buck's cock, sucking him down like he couldn’t get enough. 

"Jesus, Eddie." Buck jerked helplessly into Eddie's mouth.

He didn’t know what gave him more pleasure—watching Eddie work him, or witnessing Eddie display such passionate emotion, like he could never give or get enough.

Buck couldn’t help the gibberish coming out of his mouth, alternating pleading, begging, and demanding, his legs shaking from keeping himself upright while Eddie’s tongue did amazing things. Until Buck couldn’t contain it anymore, his whole body jerking from its release.

He might have yelled out, Buck wasn’t sure. His whole body vibrated in pleasure, the wall the only thing keeping him upright. 

Eddie pushed slightly away, looking up at Buck, his lips swollen, eyes lidded with lust. Buck offered him a hand up, pulling Eddie to his feet and they stood there for a moment, oddly abashed, simply looking at each other, panting and grinning. 

Still smiling, Eddie started looking around the room, but Buck beat him to it. “Lube’s in the nightstand drawer.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow in an _oh_ expression.

“Always be prepared,” Buck breathed, still buzzing in bliss. 

Pulling out the drawer, Eddie grabbed a condom and rolled it onto himself. Then he found the tube and poured lube over his fingers and started spreading more over his cock. 

“Have you…I mean have you done this before?” Buck asked curious. “I have. If you need help. I mean, I’ve experimented a few times.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I…you know…. I watched some videos before.”

Buck grinned; it was such a genuine, honest answer. “That’s good.”

Buck watched Eddie stroke himself lightly, his brain short-circuiting at the beautiful sight. Heart thumping in expectation, Buck turned around and crawled onto the bed onto his hands and knees.

Waiting, Buck braced himself, breathing in anticipation. 

Eddie rested a warm hand on Buck’s hip. Buck licked his lips in anticipation, fingers digging into the mattress. He gasped as Eddie slowly pushed two fingers into him, working him open.

"Is this good?" Eddie asked. 

“Yes,” Buck moaned as Eddie continued stretching and teasing him. 

Buck’s arms started trembling, pleasure coursing down his spine, his breathing ragged. Eddie was methodical, excited. Just when Buck couldn’t wait another moment, Eddie’s cock replaced his fingers, Buck releasing a slow groan.

Eddie pushed all the way, making hot circles against Buck’s back with his mouth, clasping him tightly, holding him. "Been wanting this,” he panted. 

“Yes,” Buck said, repeating himself over and over again as Eddie moved faster and faster, fucking him, Buck thrusting back against Eddie. “God yes, God….”

And Buck finally let himself go, giving into the _thrum_ of pleasure coursing through and over him.

Eddie let out a shout that made Buck grin ear-to-ear, then two of them collapsed next to each on the bed, boneless, Buck’s brain in a happy little place. _This was good; this was right._

* * *

tbc..


	2. Chapter 2

Eddie stared up at the ceiling in his bedroom waiting for something that never came. Getting out of bed he snatched his cell phone off the nightstand and walked quietly into the kitchen in search of some tea.

He kept his phone on silent during the night, so he didn’t see the waiting text messages until now. All from Buck. 

_Hey, you up?_

_No? Good, means you’re sleep._

Eddie snorted. He wished. 

_Just thinking about you. And other things._ Eddie shook his head at the devil emoji. 

_Not that I’m only thinking about that stuff._

_You know what I mean._

Eddie knew exactly what he meant; it was hard not to think about what happened the other night, what lines he and Buck had crossed. Then panicked knowing Carla was dropping Christopher home, and expecting Eddie to be there. 

He rubbed a hand over his face. God, what the hell were he and Buck doing? What had Eddie been thinking risking things like this with his best friend?

He continued scrolling through, imagining Buck tapping everything in a rapid-fire conversation.

_Now I’m making this weird. Sorry. See you tomorrow during roll call._

Tomorrow. When they would have to act normal around each other, whatever that was now. Act like nothing had happened. 

Eddie didn’t look at the time, he couldn’t. He knew he should probably text Buck back, but ended up staring at the phone, trying to think of something to say. 

He copped out by sending a happy face and turning his phone off.

* * *

_The heat choked the linings of his throat; the smoke was so dense Eddie couldn’t tell what direction he was going. Sand burned the palms of his hands as he crawled along searching for—wait…who was he searching for?_

_“Dad?”_

_“Christopher?”_

_Panicked, Eddie stumbled to his feet and started running toward his son’s voice. “Christopher!” he screamed his lungs burning._

_“Eddie! Over here!”_

_“Buck?” Eddie shouted. “Buck, where are you? Where’s Christopher?” He kept running. “Buck!”_

_The smoke thinned to plumes of grey, the air thick with the smell of gasoline. In the distance a chopper was engulfed in flames, the voices of Buck and his son screaming from inside it._

Eddie woke up with a yell. Body shaking, he tried to catch his breath, the darkness fuzzing in and out. _Home, he was home._

“Daddy?”

Still reeling, Eddie searched the shadows for his son. “Chris?”

He spotted movement. 

“Dad?” Christopher whispered trying to crawl into his bed.

Eddie grabbed his son and pull him up, hugging him to his chest. “I’m here, I’m here.”

Christopher squeezed him back. “It’s going to be all right, Dad, I promise.”

Eddie held his son close, knowing he’d scared him, guilt and shame washing over him. “I know, buddy, I know.”

“Want me to stay with you?”

Squeezing his eyes against the tears threatening to overwhelm him, Eddie shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Okay? You need to get back to bed and sleep. Tomorrow’s Saturday and we can go to that bakery you like and pick out your favorite donuts. Okay?”

“As long as you get one, too.”

Eddie hugged him even harder. “Deal.”

* * *

A trip to the bakery led to going to the mall then running into one of Christopher’s friends which ended in a spontaneous sleep-over invitation.

That was how the first chain-of-events occurred. Eddie created a second one himself when he called Buck to see if he wanted to grab dinner, which resulted in a few beers at Buck’s loft, and the two of them in bed again.

Hadn’t he just been questioning the wisdom of the last time they’d ended-up like this?

Eddie lay sprawled out on his stomach, a pleasant post-orgasm buzz humming through his body, his eyelids drifting closed. For this one second, this one beautiful, scared moment, he was blissfully unaware of the world. 

The mattress dipped and Buck’s hand ghosted over Eddie’s back, massaging the knots between his shoulders. “You know,” Buck murmured, “we should do this more often.”

“Yeah,” Eddie groaned as Buck dug into a sore spot. 

“Other than you know, obvious selfish reasons…you seem more relaxed here.” Buck shifted until he was lying behind Eddie, a warm solid wall of muscle. “You might even sleep better.”

Eddie opened his eyes at that. “Better…?”

“I mean, you’ve mentioned how tough it’s been lately. To, y’know. Sleep.”

Flipping onto his back, Eddie watched Buck look at him. “Have I? I don’t recall talking about it much.”

Buck looked surprised by the question. “Well, not much, but….”

Eddie propped himself onto his elbows, he narrowed his eyes. “Has someone said something about my work? The Cap or…?”

“No, nothing like that.” Buck shook his head clearly trying to back-track. “Don’t worry.”

But Eddie did. What else had people been saying behind his back? What concerns did they have about him? “You’re telling me not to worry after insinuating that I might be doing something that could undermine the team.”

“No, _I said_ …,” Buck’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “I don’t know what I said exactly. I just commented that you seem more relaxed…after you know….” Flustered he gestured at Eddie’s chest. “This is all coming out wrong. I just know you haven’t been sleeping much. Did you even read that book I gave you?”

It was somewhere on his shelf. But Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling that people doubted his capabilities. That Cap might call him upstairs for _another chat_ about what was going on inside Eddie’s head. 

“Look, I wasn’t trying to rile you up,” Buck said his voice soft.

“I’m not riled up.”

“Aren't you?”

Eddie took a deep breath, realizing how tense his shoulders had become, how Buck was staring at him with pursed lips, like Eddie needed to be calmed down. “Okay, maybe,” he admitted. 

“Look, I’m sorry. Um, Christopher said something to me,” Buck grimaced at his next choice of words, “when I called you this morning.”

_“This morning?”_

“You were in the shower and he saw my name and answered the phone.”

“Chris talked to you?” Eddie was still confused by the unfolding events. 

“He’s worried. He said you had a bad night last night.”

Eddie collapsed onto his back again, gritting his teeth. “He shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

“He’s your son. Of course, he should.” Buck sat up with his back against the headboard. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

“No,” Eddie said too quickly. 

“Eddie.” Buck swallowed. “Is this about the tunnel rescue?”

“What? _No.”_ Eddie shook his head; everyone was more worked up about that incident than he was. “I don’t even think about it.”

“That’s not what the nightmares are about?” Buck asked genuinely confused. 

“No.” Eddie wished it were something he could pinpoint. 

“Have you spoken to Frank?”

Eddie stared at a distant spot on the far wall of the loft. He knew it was best to reach out the department shrink. “Not yet.”

“Look, I’m not judging you, or telling you want to do. But maybe you should give him a call. It couldn’t hurt.”

Eddie massaged his temples. He couldn’t bear to see his son suffer because of his inability to keep his shit together. “Yeah, maybe I’ll do it on Monday.” He had to go to the lawyer’s office in the morning anyway. 

A long silence stretched out between them and once again Eddie was reminded of the tightrope he was walking with Buck, how easily he could screw things up between them. “I should probably head home. Chris is getting dropped off in the morning.”

“You could spend the night and run back over before then?”

Buck sounded so damn sincere. Eddie hated that he felt so torn. He was never usually such an indecisive person. It was so frustrating. “I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Getting up and out of bed, Eddie searched for his clothes, telling himself he’d figure things out between himself and Buck before he screwed it up even more.

* * *

On Monday, it didn’t take long to be seen at the lawyer’s office. Eddie took the offered seat while Mr. Larkin apologized about his computer being slow. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“All right Mr. Diaz. As we spoke on the phone, your wife inherited property when her mother passed away. All the details of said property are outlined here.” Larkin slid over a file with the estimate value of the property. “The back taxes owed are extensive —”

“Twenty thousand dollars?” Eddie stared at him. “It says here the house is only estimated to be worth two hundred and seventy?”

“And the mortgage owed is over three hundred thousand because a second loan was taken out. Mrs. Pesta fell behind on her mortgage payments and it just all started to snowball.”

Eddie stared at the paper. Shannon’s mom had been near retirement age when this all occurred. Where did all this debt come from? A deep ache filled his chest. “Why didn’t she mention any of this?”

“Given Mrs. Pesta’s illness….”

Eddie glared at him. “That’s not who I was talking…never mind….”

“There are medical bills of course, so that might be an issue as well. Mrs. Diaz did what she could of course but given the circumstances….”

“Why don’t you just come on out and say it?” Eddie growled.

Larkin looked up in confusion. “Come again?”

“This is the reason why you had me come down here, right?,i> We’re still married.” He waved at the paperwork; irritation filling his veins. “It’s a shared responsibility, one that I didn’t uphold.”

“We need you to agree to the sale of the estate. All monies collected will go to the IRS, then the rest to the bank, whom we represent.”

“And what monies do I owe?” Eddie sat back and waited. 

“None.” Larkin frowned. “The bank will take the loss. Like I said, we just needed your signature and agreement to the sale.”

Eddie bit his lip. It took everything in him to _not_ lash out about demanding letters and endless phone calls that had set him on edge for days, but it was hard to yell at someone who just wanted him to sign some paperwork. He searched for a pen. “You know this could have all been avoided if you guys would have just been straightforward with what you wanted, instead of demanding I come here in person.”

“I apologize, there are certain privacy concerns, and we could not disclose-”

“Yeah, I understand.” Eddie didn’t look up as he scribbled his signature. “Now.”

* * *

Eddie stood outside taking in giant gulps of fresh air. It took everything in his power not to hop into his truck and go twice the speed limit and just keep driving. But that wouldn’t fix anything…and would probably earn him a ticket.

He thought of taking a run around the block, but he needed to get home and get ready for his shift.

He stared at everyone milling about, walking up and down the sidewalks, heading to work, to grab food. Did any of them know what it was like to feel like this? Like he wanted to scream, or punch someone, or just find _something_ to focus on other than the swirling thoughts inside his brain.

Something other than damn exhaustion, the feeling like he was being pulled in a million directions while his chest tried crushing his lungs.

Walking, Eddie pulled out his phone and dialed a long-buried number from his contacts.

_“Horizons Health Services, how may I help you?”_

Eddie ratted off all his needed info until he was connected to the right person. 

_“Okay, Mr. Diaz, I can schedule you for a follow-up appointment on the 12th.”_

“In two weeks?”

_“Is this a mental health emergency?”_

“No,” he sighed, resigned, “the 12th’s fine.”

Eddie clicked end. Taking another deep breath, he headed toward his truck.

* * *

Buck may not live with his sister anymore, but Maddie still picked up on things.

She swirled the red wine in her glass as they both sat at her kitchen table. “You seem happy lately. Work good?”

“Perfect,” Buck said drinking his beer.

“You seeing someone?”

He tried not to laugh at her not-so-coy tone. “Not at the moment.”

The thing with Eddie didn’t exactly have a name. There was no pressure, no obligation. There wasn’t a need to jinx it.

Maddie continued drinking her wine without offering to set him on a date with anyone. A first in countless months.

* * *

Sex with Eddie was fast and exhilarating—like a short-fuse of a firecracker. While Buck enjoyed the passion, he surprised himself by wanting to go a little slower. He was into exploring, knowing exactly what spot made Eddie shake, what area made his eyes roll back into his head, where he could lick, suck and nibble to elicit the most intense reaction. 

After a partially grueling call, Buck set out to do just that: map out Eddie’s body. Trace every inch with his fingers and mouth. He started rolling his tongue over quite a sensitive spot above Eddie’s right nipple, enjoying the ecstatic sounds from his partner. Excited, he began moving around to suck on a particularly rough spot near Eddie’s clavicle when something about it registered oddly with his brain.

Pulling back, Buck stared at the mark. “Whoa, is that a GSW?”

Buck knew what a gunshot wound did to the body and what type of scar it left behind. He traced the fine lines of a surgical scar, fingers rubbing the puckered skin left from an entrance wound. 

Eddie craned his head and watched him trace patterns with a guarded expression. “It’s from my last mission.”

Buck’s eyes widened. _The mission._ “I can’t believe you were shot. I mean, I knew you got the Silver Star, but I…I didn’t connect the dots that it meant you were wounded.” Buck sat back, scanning Eddie’s body with a more critical eye. “Were you hurt anywhere else?” 

“I have two more to go with it. One to the wrist and one to the leg.” Eddie sat up straighter against the wall. “The latter cracked my femur. I spent some time in Germany recovering before being shipped home.”

Shipped home. Like a package.

After sharing showers and locker rooms, now his bed, how in the hell did Buck miss these? His brain started triaging the injuries in his head and it scared the hell out of him. 

Buck looked at Eddie with renewed affection. “I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

“You didn’t shoot me, Buck.”

Eddie’s response, the dry pragmatic tone, didn’t sit well with him. “But still. It must have been traumatic. I mean….”

“It happened. I got better. End of story.” Eddie started looking around the room. “Have you seen my phone?”

“What? _Your phone_. Um, yeah. Why?”

Eddie got out of bed and started putting on his sweatpants. “You hungry? I was thinking of ordering a pizza.”

Buck was still trying to process the switch in subjects while Eddie grabbed his cell from the nightstand.

“Sausage and pepperoni all right with you?” Eddie asked. 

“Um. Sure.”

When Eddie was done ordering, he crawled back into bed and started running his fingers along Buck’s thigh. “We’ve got time before the food arrives.”

Buck never got a chance to ask more about Eddie’s injuries after having his mind blown in an amazing, drawn-out display of skill.

An hour later, the pizza arrived.

After they were done eating and Eddie went home, Buck started goggling things like _El Paso_ and _vet awarded the Silver Star_ in search for more answers.

* * *

After using various search terms, Buck sat back against his sofa and stared at his laptop, scrawling through the article again. 

Eddie had spoken of the helicopter crash when Buck had pressed him on it, about being shot down and trying to find cover before helped arrived. But the scope of it didn’t hit Buck until today.

Until he touched one of the physical scars, until reading about his friend in black and white print. 

_"Staff Sergeant Diaz, while wounded, repeatedly exposed himself to enemy fire to save injured soldiers and members of his unit. His courage, combat skills and tactical leadership under overwhelming direct enemy fire were instrumental in preventing the enemy from overrunning his unit.”_

Of course, he did. Buck scanned through to other parts of the article, pausing at certain sections. All Buck could think about were some of the insane saves Eddie had performed. A rope rescue into a burning home, jumping into action whenever Buck wanted to try something risky, volunteering to go down a fifty-foot tunnel….

Buck would never forget spending twenty minutes performing CPR to keep Eddie’s irregular heartbeat in a stable rhythm. 

It was in their blood. To serve. All first responders were drawn to a calling. But something bothered him.

 _“After returning fire, Staff Sergeant Diaz noticed teammates trapped inside their crashed helicopter and exposed to the enemy,”_ the article read. _“With complete disregard for his own safety, Staff Sergeant Diaz advanced forward, and carried his wounded teammates to cover while coordinating suppressive fire.”_

Buck sat that lost in thought, eyes flicking down to the computer screen. 

_The Silver Star is the third-highest medal for valor, after the Medal of Honor and the Distinguished Service Cross. At the time of this article, Staff Sergeant Diaz was not available for comment. Nor was anyone at Fort Hood regarding the fact that Diaz was not part of this month’s award ceremonies which included an award to a local hero receiving the bronze star._

What did that mean? Did Eddie turn down his own ceremony? Could he even do that? 

And why?

* * *

During his next shift, all Buck wanted to do was ask Eddie about the ceremony he didn’t attend. But it wasn’t something he could easily slide into a topic of conversation. 

Instead, he found Eddie sitting on one of the sofas in the rest area, flipping through a book. Buck beamed when he saw the title. “So, you’re reading it?”

Eddie lowered the book. “Couldn’t hurt.”

There was weariness in his eyes; Buck didn’t mention out loud. 

“Thank you, by the way. It has some good suggestions.” Eddie’s gaze fell into something Buck could only call troubled.

“Did you ever get a chance to call Frank?” Buck asked lowering his voice.

“Yeah. I’m all set up.”

Before Buck could probe further, the alarm blared and they both started running toward the sound.

* * *

In responding to active shooter incidents there were always two options: 1) grab your medical gear and start the triage and extrication, or 2) avoid the crisis site until given an all clear by law enforcement.

Buck didn’t even need to look at Bobby to know that he was all about the latter option. Despite what TV and film portrayed, there were not a lot of big shoot outs in the street; tonight however, was an exception. A drug raid or something had gone bad. Civilians and police officers were both down.

The calls on the radio were rapid fire.

_“Officers needs assistance.”_

_“We’ve got civilians caught in the cross-fire.”_

_“Female adult and a child spotted hurt south of the location._

Hen looked at Bobby who shook his head. “Not until the scene is cleared.”

Blue and red lights flashed everywhere; gun fire echoed in the distance. The 118 parked their trucks across the street from a popular corner store. 

Buck could see a couple of the victims trying to run across the street, one of them with an obvious leg wound. The mother fell to the ground while trying to hold her kid. 

“Captain…,” Buck growled. 

“I said we wait.”

Eddie moved beside Buck, scoping out the area. “Let me go.”

Bobby shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ve been trained to do this, sir. I have a clear line of sight to the victims and, based on the last shots, the shooters are heading in the opposite direction.” Eddie moved closer. “Time’s of the essence, Cap.”

Buck’s head nearly exploded when Bobby relented. He debated for only a few seconds. 

“Let me go with him,” Buck pleaded.

Bobby shook his head. “No, we’re all holding back.”

Heat burned across Buck’s cheeks. _What the hell?_ He opened his mouth to protest further but Bobby stared him down. 

His only choice was to stand by and watch Eddie navigate the space between them and the victims, keeping his body low, zigzagging his way toward the woman and her child.

Han stood beside Buck watching as Eddie reached the victims. “You know Bobby’s just deferring to Eddie’s experience, right?”

Buck grabbed his medical kit with a frown. “If it’s not acceptable to risk for the rest of us, it shouldn’t be for Eddie.”

While he prepared to run out and meet Eddie as he made his way back with the victims, Buck wondered not for the first time why the others were always willing to let Eddie take chances in situations deemed too risky for anyone else. 

A revelation only now started to dawn on him.

* * *

Buck’s whole body thrummed from his fingers to his toes, his muscles jelly, skin slick with sweat. He stretched out his limbs; his fingers brushing against the towel Eddie had tossed onto the bed so they could clean themselves off. 

After tonight’s call, Buck had needed an outlet, not even giving Eddie a chance to take control as he normally did…and for once, Buck had been the one to fuck Eddie into the mattress. 

Sitting up, Buck wiped away the stickiness smeared all over his stomach. “I was wondering….”

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever think that you might have poor impulse control?”

Eddie pulled on his underwear before flopping back down on the mattress. “You’re asking _me?”_

“Uh-huh.”

“No.”

Buck quirked an eyebrow. “Really?” 

Eddie rolled onto his side with a lazy smile. “Give me an example.”

“Joining the Army.”

Eddie’s smile faded. “There are a lot of people in the military, Buck.”

“But you signed on as a medic.”

“Your point?”

“You like helping people.” Buck pillowed his arms behind his head. “You could have done that as an EMT or nurse. Not to mention, it wouldn’t have required you to fly halfway around the world.”

“I had my reasons.”

Eddie hadn’t denied it and Buck wasn’t sure if he’d ever this type of moment again, so he pushed a little further. “Then you moved here.”

Eddie threw up his hands. “What makes that impulsive?”

“Because your family is in Texas…,” Buck shrugged knowing he was threading a fine line. “Just sounds like you were running way from something.” He didn’t mention skipping out on his ceremony—not yet.

Eddie rolled fully onto his back now and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t think I’m into this game.”

“It’s just sometimes, I think you’re more impulsive than I am, but no one notices because you’re always _Mr. Cool and Collected.”_ Buck stared at his hands, thinking back to how he felt at the scene today. “Which make it less obvious when you do things like go into the middle of a shoot-out to rescue someone.”

“First off, the shooter had already fled –”

“Which we weren’t aware of at the time.” 

Eddie laughed, giving him a bewildered expression. “Are you trying to say that you’ve never done something risky? _Seriously? You?”_

Buck wasn’t going to allow Eddie to shift the topic toward him. “I never said that. _I said,_ it’s just less obvious when _you_ do it.”

“Buck, where is this heading? Are you upset at me? At Cap? Because the last I checked, this is what we all signed-up for.”

“No, I’m not mad at you. Far from it. I worry…. I mean, you almost died. You got buried under fifty feet of earth and mud and everyone acted like….” Buck sucked in a breath. “I realized right then that I couldn’t lose you. Okay?”

Buck could still feel the pain from trying to dig his way to Eddie with his bare hands, how his heart shattered into a million pieces in absolute terror and loss. And now he’d said it out loud. To Eddie.

“You’re not going to lose me.” Eddie reached out and took Buck’s hand. “I know what that fear feels like. What it does to you. It happened when an entire fire truck landed on your leg. When I saw Shannon in that crosswalk.”

Eddie licked his lips, his eyes narrowing, lips a flat line. “In combat and countless other times. It’s a _horrible_ feeling.” He stared out ahead his gaze unfocused, his thumb rubbing circles over Buck’s palm. “Sometimes it consumes you, eats you up inside. Other times, you don’t feel a damn thing. You’re just…numb.”

Buck couldn’t fathom shouldering so much weight all the time. The amount of regret and distress. “Sounds like you’ve had way too much experience with such stuff.” 

“Yeah, well, what do your books say? The past is the past, right?” Eddie stretched out his arms. “Forget and move on.”

“Actually, they teach about learning to let go. There’s a difference.”

“Letting go?” Eddie shifted onto his knees, the mattress dipping with his weight. “As in letting me do really wicked things to you?”

“You know, I’m starting to sense a pattern here, when we try to talk.” 

But _fuck_ , Eddie was hot like this. The way he peered at Buck, ready to do things to make him boneless with ecstasy. Buck couldn’t help himself, sliding down in the bed and pulling away the sheets away from his legs. 

“Yeah, well.” Eddie started climbing on top of Buck. “I want to make you _let go_ of everything in your head right now.”

Part of Buck wanted to keep talking; he’d felt like Eddie might’ve really started to open up, get to the important things, but the moment Eddie’s mouth was on his, Buck fell full-on into the moment.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Eddie wasn’t a fan of therapy. He was uncomfortable talking about the thoughts in his head. He never doubted it improved people’s health; it was just hard to open up to a stranger. Not when he had grown up being taught that you took care of your own business. 

“It’s been a month since the tunnel rescue,” Frank said. “How are you doing?”

Eddie tried not to squirm, but it was hard to stay still. “I’m fine.”

“You’re physically recovered? You suffered a broken rib and…” Frank flipped through his notes, “some pneumonia?”

“I’m good.” Eddie tapped the side of his thighs. He needed to be more open about why he was here, why his own son felt the need to tell him everything would be okay. “I haven’t been sleeping very well. _If at all._ I just lie there wide awake and when I do I sleep…” 

“Do you have nightmares?”

“Sometimes.”

“What’s on your mind before you go to bed?”

“Nothing.”

Frank tilted his head. “Anything about work or home?”

“No.”

“Close your eyes for me. Think about getting ready for bed. Pulling back the sheets, getting comfortable.”

Eddie did as he was told, closing his eyes, imagining himself at home. 

“Now tell me how you feel?” Frank asked. 

“Tired.”

“What else? Do you feel any sensations in your body? Tightness or pain?”

Shifting in his seat, Eddie focused on the other night, the dimness of his room. “In my chest. It…does feel tight.” That surprised him. 

“And when you’re in bed and you feel this tightness…what are you thinking about? Where does your mind wander to?”

“I don’t know.” Eddie squeezed his eyes tighter, but all he could think about was trying to sleep. “Nothing.”

“Is there a feeling? Worry. Anger? Sadness?”

Eddie flashed back to standing in front of his bed. _Nothing._ He opened his eyes, annoyed. “Look. I don’t know.” It was the truth, there wasn’t anything weighing on his mind when he went to sleep. 

“That’s okay.” Frank shifted in his wheelchair. “When you were here last time it was a week after the tunnel rescue. It was still pretty fresh. Now it’s been a month.”

“It has.”

“Let's talk about that.”

“You know. Everyone seems more stressed out about that experience that I do. I was scared. No doubt. I thought I wasn’t going to be able to rescue Hayden at one point and that…” Eddie sat up straighter. “That was…terrifying.”

“Why did you think you might not be able to rescue him?”

“Because I was only allowed thirty minutes down there and it took longer to reach him.” It was never going to be enough time, Eddie should have realized that. “And when I finally located him, when I was just reaching out, I got yanked up.”

“And when you got pulled up…what happened?”

“I cut the rope.”

Frank looked at Eddie with no judgment. “You cut the rope that could return you to the surface?”

“The tunnel was filling with water.” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. It’d been the right call. “Hayden would’ve drowned if I hadn’t.”

“Then what happened?”

“I came to.”

Frank narrowed his eyes in surprise. “You were unconscious?”

Eddie paused in thought. “For a little while.” 

_“When were you going to tell me you reenlisted?” Shannon demanded._

_“Diaz, I’m out of ammo!”_

He pushed away the flicker of memories. “I was able to reach Hayden and pull him out of the well. That’s when Chim came down.”

“And that happened after your teammate went back up to the surface with the child?”

“I waited.” Eddie tried recalling anything else. “I don’t know for how long.”

“And what was that like? The waiting?”

“Fine…at first.” Everything was dark in the hole, the only light from his head lamp, his heavy breathing the only sounds he could hear. “Then it was nerve-wracking. It felt like it was taking forever.”

“And that was difficult?”

“Of course,” Eddie snapped. “I was in freshly dug tunnel with water filling the ground around me.” Taking a breath, he lowered his voice, his gaze drifting the floor. “I started to get antsy…and began looking back up the tunnel to see if I could spot the rope or anything…then….there was this vibration and tunnel collapsed on top of me.”

“That must have been awful.”

“It was.” Eddie rubbed at an ache in his shoulder. “Seeing all that dirt coming down….and when I realized what had happened…I was scared, man. I couldn’t reach anyone on the radio.” He locked eye with Frank, grim reality setting into his bones again. “The tunnel that took eight hours to drill was blocked. I knew I was fucked.”

“If you could, try to think of that moment. You’re inside the tunnel. Trapped. No way to communicate with your team. Now close your eyes.”

Eddie forced himself into that dark place again.

“Describe what you hear. Smell,” Frank said. 

“It’s musty. Wet. Cold.” Eddie clenched his jaw. “I hear my own heartbeat in my ears. Feel it racing in my chest.”

“Describe that sensation in your chest.”

Eddie could feel it _now._ “Tightness. Like ants crawling inside.”

His shoulders were tight now, too, but the current feeling in his chest was an awful dread. _Familiar._ He opened his eyes. “It’s the same feeling I get before I go to bed.” Eddie shook his head, confused. “But I’m not thinking about the tunnel.”

“You might not be. You could be disassociating it. Or the tunnel could be reminding you about another time where you felt this sense of anxiety.”

Eddie stared at him. 

Frank checked his watch. “We’re out of time today, but I think this is a good start.”

“For what?” Eddie sat forward, because all he had was more questions than answers. 

“Eddie. I think you’ve had a lot of intense experiences in your life that you haven’t processed yet. And those emotions get stuck. In our brains. In our bodies. And until we can untangle them, they can impact our everyday lives.”

“How do we get them unstuck?” Because Eddie needed a solution. A way to fix things. 

“That’s what we’re going to work on. But first, I want to show you a relaxing technique to settle you down from out discussion. This is something I want you to try before you go to bed.”

* * *

After his appointment, Eddie had invited Buck over, which happened to be his best decision of the day. Apparently they were making pizza. 

Eddie leaned against the kitchen counter while Buck made fresh dough, Christopher giggling beside him.

If Buck grinned any wider he’d dislocate his jaw. He draped the dough over his palm and forearm while slapping it onto his opposite palm, letting it drape. He repeated the motion back and forth, slapping and rotating the dough.

It was mesmerizing. Buck was mesmerizing. The strength of his broad shoulders, the flex of his defined arms as he worked, a dusting of flour sprinkled over his throat. 

“Rotating your arms is key and getting the dough thin and stretchy,” Buck told Christopher, showing off.

Chris of course was entranced, watching Buck’s every move. “Will you toss it in the air?”

“Will I toss it in the air? What is the point of making fresh pizza dough if you don’t toss it in the air?” Buck’s grin got even wider, looking between Eddie and Christopher. “Now, the key is rotating your arms inward to get ready for the throw. This allows more rotation during the throw, creating the spin that shapes the dough in the air.”

Buck followed through, throwing the dough in the air, Christopher gleefully laughing as it got larger and thinner with every spin. “And you just…have to keep your palms up and working and…”

The dough flew up so high that when Buck got his palms under it, it broke apart into a giant misshapen mess.

Christopher thought it was the funniest thing in the world based on his enthusiastic squeak of excitement. 

Eddie took his cue and walked over to help remove the dough from all over Buck’s arms. “I think someone under-estimated his strength.”

“Do it again!” Christopher yelled.

Eddie finished picking up the pieces from the floor with a smile. “Whatta ya say, Chef Buckley? Wanna give it another try?”

“Wouldn’t you rather order one instead?”

“What’s the fun in that?” Eddie said, opening the fridge to grab a beer.

Buck stood behind Eddie, his body pressed up against Eddie’s back, his breath ghosting over his ear. “I just think you enjoy watching my great displays of strength.”

A shiver went up Eddie’s spine and he turned around, purposely looking Buck up and down as he spoke. “Actually, I just like to sit back and admire what that white apron shows off.”

“Oh, do you?” Buck said with a grin before returning to the counter. 

Hiding a smile behind his beer, Eddie leaned back against the counter while he and Christopher watched Buck start over again.

* * *

“So, when did Cap teach you how to make dough,” Eddie asked while taking the dirty plates into the kitchen.

“What makes you think it was Bobby?”

Eddie quirked an eyebrow and Buck laughed. “During a really boring day last summer.”

Eddie kept an eye out for Christopher as he went into the bathroom before going to bed.

“Oh, by the way, I brought over some entertainment,” Buck said, waving a new video game. “It’s called 1983.”

“It doesn’t have a cheesy soundtrack does it?”

“Doubtful.”

Walking into the hallway, Eddie watched as Christopher made his way to his room. “Okay, little man. You ready?”

Christopher climbed into bed and looked over at him with a smile “It’s fun having Buck over.”

Pulling the covers over his son, Eddie returned the grin. “I’m glad you had fun making pizza with him.”

“Can he help make breakfast, too?”

Something like a vice gripped his chest. Eddie took a deep breath to chase the feeling away. “We’ll see, buddy.”

Christopher grinned ear-to-ear when he told Eddie goodnight. But the feeling of unease didn’t recede. _What the hell, Edmundo? Get a grip._

Turning off the light, Eddie walked down the hall and toward the living room. Turning the corner, Eddie was about to ask Buck if he wanted another beer when the sound of a heavy machine gun filled the room.

Eddie dove to the ground. 

As soon as his body hit the floor, Eddie searched the perimeter for the source of the gunfire. 

“Whoa! Shit.”

Eddie saw Buck in his peripheral vision, heard the noise of a remote control clatter against the floor. Breathing hard, Eddie pushed up with his hands, taking in his living room, Buck crouched won in front of him, but at a distance, uncertainty marring his expression.

“Hey, it’s just me,” Buck said, palms face up.

Cold reality sunk in, followed by stinging embarrassment. Swallowing, Eddie picked himself off the floor and stood. He couldn’t look Buck in the eye. “I’m…sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m….Jesus, I’m sorry Eds.”

“Don’t be.” Eddie grit his teeth. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

“It was the video game. It’s a first-person shooter.” Buck moved closer. “I didn’t know…”

 _“Neither did I.”_ Eddie finally looked up at Buck’s worried face. “Seriously. I’ve never had an issue before. _You know that.”_ Buck had to.

“Of course,” Buck said his voice sincere. “I mean, you’ve been around shootings, the one last week even….”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. Exactly.” Clearing his throat, he gestured at the TV. “What game is that?”

“1983. It’s like a Cold War, FPS.”

“Really?…” Eddie searched his brain. “What I heard sounded like a DShK machine gun.”

“A what?”

“A Soviet era machine gun.” Eddie rested his hands on his hips. “Used by the Taliban.”

_“Incoming!”_

_Eddie didn’t see the missile before the helicopter jolted._

“They used them on mounted vehicles.” He shrugged. “Easier to transport.” 

Buck looked at Eddie in awe. “That’s amazing.” Then his eyes got big and his voice sheepish. “In that the software developer would go to such lengths for authenticity …and um, that your ears would recognize it.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around himself in frustration. “I’ve been exposed to the sound of heavy fire dozens of times since I returned home. I’ve never….never reacted this way before.”

“As you said, this was a specific sound. And you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Shouldn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it though?” Buck reached out to touch him, but pulled his hand back at the last second. “You’ve been under a lot of stress. After the tunnel collapse. After, Shannon,” he said softly.

Eddie bit his lip.

“It’s a lot,” Buck said.

But Eddie was passed it all. He didn’t dwell on things he couldn’t control. “One has nothing to do with the other.”

_“Eddie. I think you’ve had a lot of intense experiences in your life that you haven’t processed yet. And those emotions get stuck. In our brains. In our bodies. And until we can untangle them, they can impact our everyday lives.”_

Buck cleared his throat rubbing his hands up and down his hips. “I’m no doctor, but have you considered the possibly that –”

“Don’t say it.” 

“Say what?” Buck’s face fell. “This isn’t anything to be ashamed about, Eddie.”

“I don’t have time to be…sick.” Eddie knew what he was saying was ridiculous. “I’m seeing Frank. I’m talking to someone. I’m not sneaking off to another fight ring.”

He was doing all the right things, everything he was supposed to. It had to be enough.

Eddie stared at Buck, hoping he understood. That Eddie had things under control. He folded his arms over his chest feeling exhausted and thrumming with energy at the same time. 

Maybe Buck felt it too, the tension, the unbearable weight of something bigger than any of them. 

“Look, why don’t we just sit on the sofa?” Buck suggested. “Find something mindless on the TV and relax.”

But Eddie was too wired for that. He shook his head. His thoughts drifted to the bedroom, but that felt wrong. 

“We could go for a walk? Something short. Chris will be fine if we just go around the block.”

A change of scenery sounded good. “Yeah, okay. For like a few minutes.”

Eddie looked into the hallway but Christopher’s door never opened; his son wasn’t calling him for help. He was safe and sound in bed.

* * *

Fresh air did little to settle Eddie’s nerves. Every sound of a car door slam drew his attention, the arguing of his neighbors across the street, the banging of the garbage cans. Every noise was another growing annoyance. 

He could feel Buck’s eyes on him, the quick worried glances. This was exactly what Eddie didn’t want, the over-concern and stress it caused others. _What he caused others._ It was bad enough that his own son worried about him, now Buck did too. 

They made it back to his place after a couple blocks, Buck hanging back on the steps, hands in his pockets. “It’s late.”

“I know. I’m sorry, man.”

Buck flicked his eyes toward the door. “I could…stay, if you wanted.”

A shot of adrenaline went through Eddie. There was a reason why he never spent the night at Buck’s, knowing all his troubles would be on full display, creating even more worry. “Maybe another time?”

Buck took a step closer, his eyes soft, his voice even softer. “I want to be there for you, Eddie.”

“You are, more than you know.” Eddie’s heart sank because Buck was one of the few things in his life that felt right. Good. He deserved better. “I just…need some time. Okay?”

“I’m here, _right here.”_ Buck took Eddie’s hands into his, squeezing them. “Right now.”

“But I’m not…” Eddie knew he wasn’t giving Buck his full attention. He rubbed his thumbs over Buck’s palms. “And I’m trying to fix it. I’m trying to do the right thing this time.”

“Let me be there for you, Eddie.”

Eddie broke off the physical contact. “You are. I just…I don’t know what I need, okay? Just give me a little while to sort it all out in my head.”

Swallowing, Buck stepped back, clearly disappointed. “Call me anytime, okay? To talk, or go for a walk. Doesn’t matter.”

“I will,” Eddie promised.

* * *

_Fire raged across the sand, sending swirls of smoldering dust into the sky. Eddie couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, the heat was unbearable. His eyes watered and his chest burned with every intake of air._

_But he had to find them, had to find…._

_The helicopter wreckage was strewn all across the desert floor, the air reeking of burned metal and scorched earth, the voices crying for help silent. Lumps of heavy ash the only things remaining._

_Pain filled every inch of his body, a raw, hot-white ball of agony. Eddie bowed his head into the dirt and screamed over and over again, until his voice finally gave out._

_Chest heaving, Eddie wavered on his hands and knees as the fire started closing in. He didn’t move, waiting on the flames to engulf him._

Eddie gasped awake. His heart pounded in his chest, his skin slick with sweat. Cradling his face between his hands, he pulled his knees up against his chest and fought against the tears running down his face.

* * *

It’d been a week since his last therapy session, the days in between blurring together. Eddie sat down on the sofa, his knee bouncing up and down. 

“I want to go back to the tunnel rescue,” Frank said.

Eddie wanted to talk about not being able to sleep or the constant feeling of being on edge all the time. Why he snapped at Hen when she handed him the pepper instead of the salt and how he spent most of the rest of the night making it up to her.

He wanted Buck to stop looking at him like he might fall apart. “Didn’t we talk about that last time?”

Frank flipped open his notepad. “We didn’t go through the whole thing.”

Eddie did his best to get comfortable on the sofa, sitting on the edge of the cushion. “All right. You know what’s best.”

“You’re in the tunnel. Chim takes Hayden back up to the surface. You’re alone in the dark. You wait a while.” Frank paused his voice even. “You don’t see your teammate. You look up searching for him…”

Eddie closed his eyes, listening to Frank’s voice, his thoughts drifting back to the cramped space he’d dug through. 

“I call Chim’s name, but instead of hearing from him, I hear a loud noise then feel a large vibration.” Deep inside Eddie knew what was about to happen, recognizing the sound of the ground moving. “Dirt and debris crash down on top of me. At some point I…I lost consciousness …”

_“Diaz I’m out!” Mills screamed._

_Eddie tossed her one of his clips. “I got you!”_

“What is it?” 

Frank’s voice cut through the sudden flash of images. Eddie cleared his throat. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Frank watched him. “Did you remember something?”

_The echo of Ak47’s filled the air._

“Gunfire,” Eddie admitted. 

“From where?”

“Afghanistan. When I was deployed.”

“Let’s keep going with that.”

“It’s gone.” Eddie had pushed it all out of his head. “I don’t remember anything else about after I came to.”

“What about right now?”

Eddie shook his head. He was trying to forget it.

“We’ll return to it later.” Frank rested his hands onto his knees. “Refocus on the tunnel. The opening had collapsed onto top of you, knocking you out. You came to a few minutes later…”

Eddie tried envisioning it all again. The way the ground felt under his knees. “I tried calling my team on the radio, but it’s useless....” All he wanted was for the radio to work, to signal his team, _because he’s right there damn it._ A knife twisted inside his gut, his heart pounding inside his ears. “I’m alive but they, they don’t know that.”

“I know it’s difficult, but can you describe exactly what you’re feeling?”

“Fear,” Eddie said his voice thick. “Hopelessness.”

“Can you describe any pain or sensation in your body at that time?”

Eddie blew out a frustrated breath. “My head hurts from the concussion. But my chest, it’s tight, like I can’t breathe.” _Like it was feeling right now._

“You feel helpless. What would make you feel less helpless?”

“If I wasn’t trapped. If my friends knew I was alive and were searching for me.”

Frank shifted forward. “Is there any reason to think otherwise?”

“Because forty feet of dirt fell on my damn head! Why would they?” Eddie started at Frank, his breathing coming in fast and shallow breaths.

“It’s okay, Eddie. You’re in a safe place.”

Eddie dug his fingers into his thighs, the pain grounding. His breathing slowing down. 

“There you go.” Frank waited a moment before speaking again. “When I asked you if you thought your teammates were searching for you, you expressed doubt.”

Eddie swallowed. “They were doing a grid search.”

“But you didn’t think so at the time?”

“I should have.” Guilt clawed at him. “But I didn’t.” Eddie bit his lip, angry at himself. “I doubted my team. My family.” _How could he? Family. His team meant everything._

“Why do you think that?” Frank asked.

Eddie looked down at my hands. He didn’t say anything.

“You felt helpless in the tunnel. Alone. Maybe even abandoned. Those are some very intense emotions.”

Eddie jerked his head up at the accusation. “I never said I thought my team abandoned me.”

“There’s a difference between thinking an emotion and feeling it.” Frank spoke with calm pragmatism. “You were in a life and death situation with little hope of survival. That is a lot to handle.”

“I’ve been in life and death situations before.”

“When you were deployed?”

“Yeah.”

Frank wrote something down on his pad. “And when you were in the tunnel you thought back to a time when you served as a medic?”

Eddie got up from the sofa. Restlessness made his skin crawl; a bone-weary exhaustion pushed him to his limits. “Listen. I need to know when I might get better. When I can clear all these thoughts out of my head.”

“A lot of emotions and thoughts are interconnected and we’re still shifting through them.”

“I don’t see how all this talking is helping.” Eddie almost asked if there was any type of medication he could take, but thought better of it. 

“It’s going to take some time.”

“Well, time doesn’t help with my kid, or with my best friend.” Eddie didn’t know what he would do if he woke Christopher up in the middle of the night again. Or how Buck would react if Eddie freaked out on him again.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. But there’s no fast forward button we can use.” Frank remained still while Eddie paced. “Do you belong to any support groups? Maybe a veteran’s group?”

“No.”

“What about the grief support group I recommended after your wife’s passing?”

“I don’t have time.” Eddie rubbed a hand through his hair. “I have a full-time job and I have Christopher.”

“Do you have any type of support network at all? Family, friends? People you can talk to?”

Eddie stared down at the floor. “I don’t want to drag them into my problems.”

“Eddie, the gift of friendship is being there for one another.” Frank pushed his wheelchair closer. “Celebrating the good times and supporting one another in the bad. Don’t you think the people who love you deserve to see you healthy and happy?”

The answer sounded so damn simple. Maybe it was. Or maybe Eddie was going to screw that up, too. 

“What about an outlet, something to help release all the stress and emotion you’re holding onto. Running. Or…”

Eddie flicked his eyes, waiting.

“I was going to suggest boxing, but I’m not sure that’s a healthy method for you.”

“Therapy jokes, that’s funny,” Eddie said not laughing. 

Frank looked Eddie in the eye. “You came here because you recognized that you need help, that’s hard, and a huge first step. But you also need to reach a place where you feel ready to accept it. That’s biggest step of them all.”

* * *

Buck scrolled through the emails on his phone, pausing on his daily meditation suggestion. Taking a deep breath and focusing on it just didn’t seem like it would take his mind off everything in his head.

“Isn’t the point of doing those to make you calmer?” Maddie asked.

Buck slipped his phone back into his pocket. Grabbing his sister’s empty wine glass from the table, he went back into the kitchen and re-filled it while grabbing a beer for himself.

“You reading over my shoulder now?” he asked setting the glass down.

“It was hard not notice.” She took the glass and settled further on her sofa. “Thank you. So, what’s bothering you?”

Buck looked away, but his sister was persistent. “Come on. The last few weeks you’ve been walking on water and ever since last weekend you've been acting like Eeyore. What’s wrong?”

He thought about dodging the question then that would make him as bad as….

Sighing, Buck spoke honestly. “I have a friend who’s been struggling lately, you know? With mental health stuff. And I want to help them, but....”

“They don’t think they need help?”

“No, they do, they’re even going to therapy. But—”

“You don’t know how to help them?”

Buck tilted his head in annoyance. “Am I going to be able to finish a sentence?”

Maddie grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“I just feel powerless. Because it’s like, they know they need help, _they’re getting help,_ but they’re still, I don’t know. It’s like they’re caught in this endless cycle that they don’t know how to get out of.” Buck slumped further in his seat. “Does that make sense?”

“Like when you’re sent to mandatory therapy but you’re not ready for it. Or you’re aware that you’re in trouble, but you’re so used to sinking that you can’t see your way out of the deep end.” Maddie nodded drinking her wine. “Yeah, I get that.”

“Now it’s my turn to apologize.” Buck contemplated his beer lost to the growing ache in his heart. “I hate seeing them in pain.”

“I take it you talked to Eddie about this?”

Buck’s cheeks blushed. “How…?” 

Maddie quirked an eyebrow at him. “Who else would you be talking about? It’s no secret you guys are _close_ …not to mention the last year has been pretty rough for the both of you.”

Buck swirled his beer bottle. “I’ve talked to him. But he’s so…wound-up. And everyone doesn’t see it; they just see _Eddie Diaz, Mr. Can Do Anything Under Pressure._ And he _can,_ the guy is a rock, but underneath….”

“You can’t fix him, Buck. But you can be there for him. Even when he pushes you away, be ready when he finally realizes he can’t do everything on his own.”

Buck nodded, knowing she was right and still feeling lost about it. Pulling out his phone, he checked his daily affirmation. _“Loving yourself is healing the world.”_

Buck hoped so.

* * *

Five minutes after setting foot in the station they were sent out on a call. Buck sat in the back compartment; Eddie sat across from him.

“What do we have, Cap?” Hen asked from beside Buck.

“Reports of a house fire with several unknown injuries.”

Buck hopped out of the cab as soon as they arrived. He spotted flames coming from the east side of the house and several people lay unconscious on the front lawn. 

A police officer ran toward them, addressing Bobby. “We think this was a stash house. We’ve got at least half a dozen OD victims outside with more inside. The fire is on the second level. My partner and I got those we could out, but we haven’t cleared the rest of the scene yet.”

“Got it,” Bobby said while Hen and Chim gathered around him. 

Buck put on his helmet while Eddie pulled on his gloves, both listening to Bobby’s commands. 

“Chim and Hen, we’ll evaluate those outside,” Bobby ordered. “Eddie and Buck, see about the vics still inside.”

The blare of another fire truck in the distance signaled much needed back-up.

Buck tapped Eddie on the shoulder and pointed to the west entrance, the two of them communicating without words. 

They entered through the living room, moving in synch with each other. Buck shoved furniture out of the way, scanning the floor for more victims.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, Eddie gestured at a person slumped in the corner. Buck nodded kneeling beside a young male in his 20’s. “Got a pulse!”

Eddie examined a young woman on the floor beside a sofa. Smoke started filling the room. “Weak pulse and weaker breath sounds.”

“Jones and Harris from the 123!” someone shouted. “We’ll take the victims if you’ll continue the search.”

“Roger that,” Eddie said. He locked eyes with Buck and indicated going down the hall.

Buck nodded, following.

They worked in tandem, checking and clearing rooms. The house was run-down, but large and sprawling. 

“LAFD!” Buck kicked in a bedroom door. “Can anyone hear me?”

His eyes went wide when he saw two guys stuffing garbage bags with zip log baggies full of pills. “Hey! LAFD, we need to get out of here!”

Both guys stared at Buck, one of them eyeing a baseball bat on the floor. 

“We need to leave,” Buck said. _“Now!”_

 _“You_ need to leave!” one of the guys yelled.

Buck felt Eddie shifting his weight and stepping in front of him. “You have two choices. Follow us and exit this house right now or die.”

The first guy kept staring at the bat while Eddie started nudging Buck toward the door with his shoulder.

Flames started burning through the ceiling from the fire above.

“Move it!” Buck yelled. 

Both guys jumped. Grabbing their garbage bags, they hurried toward them. 

Eddie urged Buck forward. The two of them went back the way they came, the two civilians hot on their heels.

It only took a few minutes to exit the house. Buck searched for the officer on the scene, but Eddie bumped his arm, nodding where the two drug dealers took off down the street on foot.

Eddie rolled his eyes. Buck clapped Eddie on the shoulder thanking for having his back. Eddie’s _no big deal_ expression filled Buck with affection. 

Who needed words when you shared such a connection?

* * *

The ride back to the station was uneventful. Buck climbed out and hung back at the truck waiting on Eddie.

“Hey,” Buck said.

“Hey.” Eddie looked over his shoulder then back at Buck his voice soft. “I’ve missed you.”

A tingle of warmth and desire went through Buck. “I’ve missed you, too.”

 _Damn._ Buck was in deep. It’d only been a couple of days since the incident at Eddie’s house.

“Yo, Eddie,” Chim called out. “Cap wants to see ya.”

Bobby didn’t seem to mind when Buck followed Eddie, or the fact that both Chim and Hen were hanging back eavesdropping. 

“Before the morning call, I was informed by the commissioner that you’ve been put in for the Medal of Gallantry for the rescue of Hayden Benson.” Bobby smiled. “Nothing’s set in stone, but I have no doubt you’ve met the criteria.”

Chimney clapped and Hen whistled, both beaming.

Buck crowded even closer with a huge grin. “Sounds like you’ll be adding to your collection.”

But Eddie ducked his head. “If it’s all the same to you, Cap. I’d rather not make big deal out of it.”

“It _is_ a big deal.” Bobby insisted. “You were instrumental in rescuing that little boy while putting yourself at great personal risk.”

“We were all instrumental.” Eddie gestured at the rest of the crew. “I just did what any of us would have done.”

Bobby watched, perplexed, when Eddie walked away. He glanced at Hen and Chim who seemed both equally baffled. 

Buck, though…Buck was _angry._

He followed Eddie into the locker room where he was removing his outer uniform shirt. “You deserve that medal.”

“I’m not about medals, Buck.”

“You don’t have to be about them. But that doesn’t mean you don't deserve the honor.”

“Buck, leave it alone. I did what I had to. You would have done the same thing if our roles were reversed.”

“But they weren’t. You volunteered before anyone else could. And you’re the one who almost died because of it.” Buck could still feel Eddie’s chest give way under his palms as he gave him CPR to combat the hypothermia. Could remember every vivid detail of Han and Chim bagging Eddie to keep his airway open. Every moment the cold-dark fear ate him up inside. 

“I…I had to keep you heart in rhythm during the whole ride back to the hospital. _Twenty minutes,_ Eddie.” 

Eddie took a shaky breath. “I know what you did for me. What the team did. And I’ll be forever grateful. And I’m sorry, Buck. I really am. But those are the risks. You of all people should know that.”

“I _do,_ ” Buck growled. “But I also value my own self-worth.” 

Eddie narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you seriously head-shrinking me? Because don’t. You have no idea what’s going on with me.”

This wasn’t the time or place, but Buck couldn’t help it as the words slipped past his lips. “I know you were awarded the Silver Star but turned down the ceremony for it.”

“Excuse me?” Eddie stepped closer and pointed a finger at Buck’s chest. “Don’t do that. Not behind my back. I’m not one of your latest research obsessions.”

“No, but I know there have only been 400 recipients of them in the last ten years. _400._ Towns throw parades for those who receive them,” Buck’s words were a flurry of pent-up emotion. “I know you have to be at least a two-star general to give the award to the recipient. I know it’s a big freaking deal.”

Eddie was breathing hard now, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with anger.

But Buck was still irate because Eddie deserved to know his actions were valued. That he was an amazing person who deserved the _whole world._ “Did it just get mailed to you? Did your parents even know what kind of honor their son received?”

“I was a little more concerned with rehabbing my leg and shoulder then I was about getting a medal pinned to my shirt in front of bunch of cheering crowds. I gave my parents the certificate to look at. My dad even memorized the letter with it. That made them happy.”

Buck stepped close enough to count marks in his forehead made by his helmet. “What about you?”

“I don’t self-congratulate myself for doing my job. Especially….” Eddie swallowed. “Especially when it wasn’t successful.”

“You saved your unit.”

“Not everyone.”

“You _can’t_ save everyone. And that doesn’t make you any less of a good person.” God why was this so hard? Buck licked his lips, his heart spent. “Eddie, you rescued Hayden. It’s okay to be recognized for it.”

Eddie’s nostrils flared. “Are we done?”

“No.”

But that didn’t prevent Eddie from walking away, leaving Buck with a furry of emotions. Frustrated, he kicked one of the bottom lockers, pissed at himself for allowing the whole conversation to spiral so out of control.

* * *

Comments are always appreciated and feed the muse :)


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Eddie wanted to hit something. Punch someone. It wasn’t healthy thinking this way. The simmering anger. He wasn’t a violent man; he hated violent people. But sometimes the frustration, the desire to unleash everything building up inside had nowhere to go.

_“What about an outlet, something to help release all the stress and emotion you’re holding onto?”_

He walked into the gym area, but Eddie wasn’t dressed for working-out. Cleaning was an option or maybe washing one of the trucks would help release the tension that had worked into his muscles. 

It’d felt like someone had taken a shovel to his brain and started scooping out the parts. He was pissed at having his privacy violated; annoyed that people couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to be rewarded, _reminded_ of times he wanted erased from his head. 

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. God, he was. Just. So. _Tired._

The squeak of rubber over the floor made him spin around to face whoever was coming up behind him.

“Whoa. Easy there.” Hen looked down at her shoes. “These are brand new. Guess it makes them loud.”

“Sorry. I’m just…,” Eddie blew out a breath. “I don’t know what I am.”

“You look exhausted.”

“There’s that.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with you and Buck, but the man cares about you. And I know you care about him.” Hen gave him a wan smile. “Everything else will sort itself out.”

Eddie opened his mouth, but no words came out. He just didn’t have them. 

Hen frowned and started to reach out to touch his arm when the alarm blared: one ring, followed by a second, then finally a third.

All the hair along Eddie’s arms stood on end. Hen’s eyes went wide as she grabbed his arm and started tugging him along. 

It’d been months, no, maybe a year since they received a three-alarm-fire. Multi fire-units would be joining them.

Running to the lockers, Eddie set aside everything else and focused on the upcoming job ahead.

* * *

Eddie loaded onto a truck with Chim and Hen. He noticed Buck and Bobby in the second truck as they road separately to the scene. It was probably for the best. He needed to keep his head focused. 

“Damn, you can see the smoke from here,” Chim commented.

Large black plumes filled the skyline. 

“What are we, two miles out?” Eddie asked.

“About that,” Hen said beside him. “First report said that the roof of a body shop caught on fire then started spreading to a set of warehouses.”

Four crews were already on the scene when they arrived. He could hear the sirens of multiple more trucks in the distance. Eddie hopped out and took in the chaos. 

“Damn,” Chim muttered. 

The warehouse was massive; Eddie couldn’t even see where it began and where it ended. Flames shot through the roof with winds whipping them higher; the west side of building was already engulfed, sending black smoke into the air.

Eddie followed Hen and Chim toward a small make-shift command post where Bobby and the rest of the crew were assembled, listening to the debrief by Fire Chief Castillo and Captain Cooper.

“We’ve got a three story, 70,000 square foot warehouse full of mattresses and furniture,” Chief Castillo said. 

Literal fuel for a large-scale fire. 

“We’ve written off the west side of the warehouse and are focusing all master streams on the south end to try to cut off the path to the rest of the building,” Chief Castillo continued. “I need the 118 to access the seat of the fire and radio me positions for rescue. Focus on suppression points. We’re flying blind here. We need to know where concentrate our efforts.”

Captain Cooper walked off to the side, listening to his radio then returned. “We have an unknown number of civilians trapped inside from the nightshift.”

“Sir,” another crew member hurried over. “We’ve having water access issues.”

Eddie watched while fire pushed out of the building’s windows, heavy smoke pouring out.

Bobby brought everyone into a huddle. “All right, we’ve got our orders. Stay in radio contact and be safe.”

* * *

Eddie followed Hen, Chim and Buck through a large entrance on the south side of the building. The smoke was still thin and emergency lighting cast a dim glow across the space.

“This looks like the loading and shipping area,” Chim said over the comms.

Eddie scanned the floor through his self-contained breathing apparatus, trying to gauge the layout while a fine mist from the sprinklers above rained down on them. Forklifts to the right side. Tons of crates to the left. And stacks of flat card boxes ready to be assembled piled next to one of many long conveyer belts. 

Buck started radioing in what they saw as they went, because everything in here would fuel the fire. 

They moved quickly, not knowing how long they would remain inside. Their O2 tanks only contained thirty minutes. 

_“The 126th reports civilians trapped on the second floor,”_ Bobby radioed.

“On it,” Chim responded. 

The four of them searched for a way to the next level, the illumination from their flashlights bouncing over walls and the floor.

“Over there!” Buck pointed out.

Like many warehouses, the offices overlooked the main floor. In the corner a metal staircase led to the second level. 

They hurried up the stairs, their boots clacking over the steps. Buck looked over the railing. “We’re going to have hose reach issues, Cap,” he radioed. 

_“Roger that. How are the internal sprinkler systems?”_

“On with very little pressure,” Hen responded, studying the ceiling. “I don’t think they’re fully functional.”

_“See if you can locate their controls and increase their operations.”_

“If they’re not functioning there’s nothing for the crews to link up to,” Eddie said. 

Chim looked back down the flight of stairs they just climbed, looking up at Eddie. “Okay. You and Buck continue searching for victims. Hen and I will go back down and try to locate the water valves and report to command.”

Buck looked over at Eddie even through their face shields; Eddie noted the tightness to his face. They weren’t done talking, not by a long shot, but this wasn’t the time. Eddie nodded at him then took the lead. 

The smoke was thicker, the emergency lighting doing little to guide them, Eddie’s breathing loud in his ears. They hurried pass various offices, doors wide-open from the 123’s search for victims.

There was an echo of _all clears_ up ahead. Eddie spotted the yellow reflective coats of firefighters ahead in the corridor. 

“Make a hole, we’ve got civilians,” one of them called out. “Make a hole.”

Eddie and Buck ducked inside one of the offices while five civilians were herded out between two other crew members. 

The crew member at the rear paused. “You with the 118?”

“Affirmative,” Eddie replied. 

“Barkley with the 123, first on scene. We have to leave and to switch out O2 tanks.” He gestured at the civilians being escorted down the hall. “According to these guys, there’s still two more missing. IT staff working in rear server room.”

“Could they have gone out another exit?” Buck asked. 

“Nearest exit is cut off by smoke from the west side of the building,” Barkley said.

“Copy that we’ll keep searching,” Eddie said.

“Smoke’s really started to fill in from above, visibility’s near maybe thirty percent. Be careful.”

One would think more open space would make things easier, but all it did was provide more room for smoke to fill and oxygen for the fire. 

“LAFD!” Buck shouted as they went. “Can anyone hear me?”

Eddie pounded on the walls as they went down.

“We’ve only got 15 mins,” Buck said over the com.

Grey smoke swirled. Eddie could barely make out his arms as he pulled out a portable flashlight to help illuminate a path. Smoke continued in from above. 

Everything smelled like diesel. 

A crackling sound ripped above their heads. Eddie turned his light toward the ceiling over the factory floor. “That sounded electrical.”

“I’m surprised the emergency lighting still works,” Buck said in the darkness. “Look, um, Eddie. I wasn’t trying to pry into your private life.” 

Eddie couldn’t believe his ears. “This isn’t the time.”

“I was just…trying to understand you better.”

“Then _ask me._ Don’t…freaking Google me.” Eddie bit the inside of his lip. “Don’t….” 

“Don’t what? Please, Eddie.” Buck moved in front of Eddie and gripped his bicep. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to talk to me. To _feel like_ you can talk to me.”

Eddie wanted to. He was trying, but the inside of head felt like a minefield. 

_“Eddie, Buck, it’s Chim,”_ the radio squawked. _“Can you read me?”_

“You breaking up,” Buck answered. “But we read you.”

“Cap said he’s lost tracking from your SCBA’s.”

Even with the newest breathing apparatus, the Bluetooth tracking technology embedded inside their masks was limited. 

“We must be too far into the building,” Buck said. “We’re trying to locate two more civilians.”

_“Command said this is turning into a pure defensive position. We surrounded the building on three of the four sides with water from above.”_

Fire and tons of water were a volatile mix on a building. 

Eddie locked eyes with Buck. Buck looked down the hall and back toward Eddie, nodding. They were agreement.

“Two more minutes,” Buck radioed. “Then we’ll start making our way back.”

Sparks flew, followed by more popping sounds. 

_“The west side wall is bulging, the area you’re in is too unstable,”_ Chim warned. 

“We’ll hurry,” Buck said.

They doubled timed it down the hall. Another set of sparks flew, followed by a small explosion in the ceiling. Bits of the third floor came down onto the factory floor. 

His heart started pounding, but Eddie pushed past it as another explosion went off, this time taking more of the ceiling with it.

Buck’s radio crackled with static, followed by Eddie’s, but they couldn’t hear anyone at the other end.

The smoke was pitch-black now; Eddie couldn’t see a thing in front of him. It was disorienting. 

“Shit!” Buck cursed. “Holy hell. Eddie, I found them.”

Eddie reached out in the dark. He almost tripped over Buck who was crouched in the hallway. Feeling Buck’s shoulders, Eddie knelt, holding his flashlight uselessly. _There._ Two bodies were on the floor.

“They tried using towels over their heads,” Buck said out of breath.

“Vitals?” Eddie asked. He tried searching for the vics in the dark. God, visibility was nothing. 

“Negative.”

Eddie could hear the despondency in Buck’s voice. Given the amount of smoke and time elapsed there was no real chance for resuscitation. 

A grim determination settled inside Eddie. “Come on, we’ll take them with us.”

“What…?”

“We’re not leaving them behind.”

But it was almost impossible to get a two-hundred-pound person over his shoulders. Not with his O2 tank and gear. He tried anyway, tried manhandling the limp body upright and almost topping over in the process.

No. He had to keep trying. There had to be a way. He wasn’t leaving them to die alone in the dark. 

“Eddie, we can’t.”

Eddie felt a strong grip around his arm. “Come on,” Buck urged. “I don’t want to leave them either, but we have to go.”

Chest heaving, Eddie tried one last time, but he lost his grip and the body fell back onto the floor. Defeat and anguish filled his heart. 

Buck started tugging him away. “We’ve got to evacuate the building.”

Evac, they had to evac.

The fire had grown, consuming the back half of the warehouse.

Eddie turned around and bumped into a wall. Breathing fast, he tried orienting himself, but it was hard to see which direction to go. East. They needed to go east.

A hand slapped his arm then his shoulder. Buck was beside him, checking on him. Eddie clapped him on the back in return. 

They started running back the way they came. 

Something else exploded, setting-off what sounded like firecrackers followed by a large rumble above their heads.

“Eddie…!”

Eddie looked in the direction of Buck’s voice, then up at the ceiling just as it crumbled down onto of them.

* * *

A roaring sound echoed in the distance. It started growing louder, like an ocean wave trying to wash over him. No, not water. It was his heartbeat. Eddie could feel it pulse inside his ears, a rapid _thump thump thump._

Oh, God, his head. Eddie groaned. It felt like someone was stabbing him in the temple. At the back of his skull. Moving hurt, moving even a little made his stomach twist. 

His body was uncomfortably hot and when he pried opened his eyes all he saw was darkness. His breath caught in his throat. 

He touched his face, his hand smacking plastic. _What the hell?_ He was wearing a breathing mask and gloves. 

Eddie tried pushing up onto his hands and knees, but something was weighing him down. Panic surged through him. He tried harder to get up, a blossom of pain at the back of his head almost made him black out.

Pieces of rubble fell off his body as he shifted. He stared down at the floor and looked around. He was next to a giant piece of metal. A machine of some kind; he couldn’t tell what it was. There was debris everywhere. 

He blinked. His heart pounded faster and faster. He wiped water from his mask from the constant drizzle. 

Eddie heard a sound, a person’s voice. 

“Help!”

His chest tightened, his breathing increased. 

Eddie homed in on the voice, but it was difficult to pinpoint with all the noise. A dull roar raged in the background, punctuated by crackling and popping sounds overhead. 

He looked up, his breath quickening at the sight of the fire raging above him. Adrenaline surged inside his chest.

“Eddie?”

He recognized that voice. 

“Buck?” His pulse raced. “Buck!” he yelled louder. 

Eddie’s voice was muffled by the mask. He almost removed it but thought better. It took him a moment to realize his helmet was missing. He touched the back of his head and his hand came away sticky with blood. 

“Eddie!”

“Buck?” God, where was he?

He unfastened the cumbersome pack strapped to his back, ignoring the small tank clattering to the floor. _Move, he needed to move._

He scrambled to his feet, swaying. White-hot pain burned down his side, but Eddie ignored it, listening for Buck’s voice. 

Images of unmoving lumps of ashes flashed inside his head. It was hard to control his breathing, his face burned hot. 

“Keep making noise!” he called out.

_Clank, clank clank._

Following the sound of banging metal, Eddie stumbled, falling and picking himself back up again. _Come on, come on_. Sweat and blood trickled down his face. 

An explosion detonated overhead and he threw himself to the ground. Eddie searched for the source of the blast, but he couldn’t locate it. He patted down his legs, but couldn’t find anything to defend himself with. 

_Clank, clank clank._

Arm braced against his side, he stumbled through the growing smoke, ignoring the flames he saw overhead, the way the world tilted when he moved. 

His only goal, his only objective, was to find Buck.

* * *

Buck banged on the side of a conveyer belt with a piece metal detritus. He could hear Eddie getting closer. Where the hell did they fall? Eddie had been next to him when the ceiling caved in. 

He looked up at the remains of the hallway railing. The damn thing had given way when the third floor collapsed. Buck had landed beside a large conveyer belt and luckily not on top of it. 

Buck stared down at his leg. It was pinned by a piece of the railing or whatever had been holding up the railing. Blood seeped onto the floor from somewhere. He tried the radio again, but got static. 

“Eddie!” he called out.

Was Eddie walking in circles? As soon as his voice got close it’d fade like he was moving in the wrong direction. 

He checked his wrist O2 meter: none remaining. Buck craned his neck. He wiped water away from his mask from the steady mist from the mostly useless sprinkler system.

“Buck?”

Buck banged on the conveyer belt again. “Over here!”

Eddie stumbled into view and Buck almost cried in relief. “Thank God!”

“Buck.” Eddie knelt beside him, staring at Buck like he’d seen a ghost. “Buck,” he repeated, his voice shaking. Eddie touched Buck’s chest, his fingers ghosting the side of his neck, resting at his pulse. “Are you good?”

“My leg. It’s pinned. I think my ankle is thrashed.”

Eddie’s finger still rested at Buck’s throat until he seemed satisfied by what he measured. He ran his hands over Buck’s turnout pants until he reached the part where his ankle was pinned. “Pain level?”

“A four. It’s not bad, I just can’t get free. I can’t put any pressure on it or move it at all.” Buck stared at the fire spreading in the distance. “I don’t even know how I got it stuck.”

Eddie started inspecting the pile of debris on top of his leg. “Are you injured anywhere else?”

“I think I banged-up my hip on the way down.” Buck looked up where he and Eddie had been standing a few minutes earlier. “I’m surprised I didn’t break anything.” Then he looked at Eddie, noticing his missing helmet. “What about you?”

Eddie started moving large pieces of roof off Buck’s leg. “I’m good. Did you radio our position?”

“I tried. But I couldn’t reach anyone.”

Eddie listed to left when he reached for something on the floor. He overcorrected and almost fell in the process. Grunting, he grabbed something. 

“This…rebar, should help.” Looking up, Eddie watched the flames overhead before stumbling back over. “We’ve got to keep moving.”

“Yeah, I know.” Buck didn’t need to be told twice. 

Eddie placed a large chunk of mortar on the ground and jammed the rebar under the piece of steel wedging Buck’s ankle in place. “I’m going to use this as leverage. On the count of three, I’ll lift the debris, but you’ve got to pull your ankle free.”

Buck tried moving into a better position, but it was awkward. “Got it.”

“One. Two. Three!”

The weight was lifted from his foot. Buck pulled with all his might, screaming in the process. But he got his ankle free and he almost collapsed in relief. Head spinning, he tried looking at his leg.

“We’ll leave the boot on to help control the swelling.” Eddie ran his hand under Buck’s calf. “Damn it. Do you have your kit on you?”

“What?”

“I need a compression bandage.”

The flames from the fire raged above them. Water started pouring in from the stream of the outside hoses. “We need to get out of here first.”

“Come on. We’ll try to get into a better position for a radio signal to request an evac.”

Buck’s vision swam as Eddie pulled him to his feet, his right arm wrapped around Buck’s waist, his other hand keeping Buck’s arm draped over Eddie’s shoulder. 

It was only then did Buck notice the blood staining the side of Eddie’s face and all over his neck. “Whoa, I thought you said you weren’t injured?”

Eddie grunted with every movement. Buck tried putting weight on his ankle; it sent a jolt of pain up his leg. 

It was difficult maneuvering around parts of the collapsed ceiling. Eddie stumbled more than once, almost tripping over something in the dark.

“Eddie,” Buck said, grunting. “Talk to me.”

“I heard you screaming…”

“Yeah, I had to get your attention; you kept wandering in the wrong direction.” 

“The screaming…it’s was so loud. And I kept looking for you…you and Christopher, but I could never find you.”

“I’m right here and Christopher is safe at home.” Worry filled Buck’s stomach. He tried looking at Eddie’s face through his mask, at the blood still dripping down the side of his neck. “We should examine that laceration.”

“We need to get to a rally point first.”

“Rally point?” Buck had been hobbling along with Eddie until he realized they weren’t going back the way they entered. “Hey, we’re going the wrong way.”

But Eddie kept maneuvering them north through the factory floor. “Eddie, seriously, hold up.”

“We need to find a secure spot to radio our location.”

“That would be outside. Through the south entrance.”

“Negative.”

“Eddie, we can’t remain inside the warehouse.” But Eddie didn’t hear him, or worse, didn’t understand him. “Eddie!” Buck growled, putting his good foot down. 

The sudden stop of their forward momentum sent them sprawling to the ground. Buck couldn’t throw his hands up to break his fall. He landed mainly on his chest, his shoulder protesting at being pulled in weird direction from where his arm was still draped over Eddie’ shoulder.

A throbbing pain engulfed his ankle, but Buck ignored it for now, rolling onto his side. 

Eddie groaned and was slower to move as he struggled to get to his hands and knees. He fumbled for the radio dangling from his tether. “This is Diaz, requesting medevac. Over?”

Buck moved until he was sitting on his ass, watching Eddie in confusion. His oxygen was gone and his exhalations were fogging the inside of his mask. He reluctantly took it off. 

“I repeat, this is Diaz. Need immediate medevac five clicks from our original position, over?”

“Eddie. Who are you talking to?”

Pushing himself into a sitting position, Eddie leaned against a crate, panting. “I’m radioing the base so they can send a chopper.”

A horrible realization tore through Buck’s head. Before Buck could ask Eddie if he could examine him, Eddie went perfectly still, then he tore off his mask, and went to his hands and knees to throw up.

* * *

Buck crawled toward Eddie the moment he was done. He grabbed him by the shoulders, holding him steady. Eddie leaned on him, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, panting.

Buck checked Eddie’s pulse, finding a rapid, but not dangerous. 

“We’ve got to keep moving,” Eddie mumbled. 

“We will, just give me a second.”

Buck didn’t have enough light to look at Eddie’s eyes, but he palpated his head, Eddie wincing when he touched the swelling at the back of his skull and another spot near his temple. Both were bleeding.

Confusion was sure sign of a moderate concussion, but along with vomiting…Buck clenched his jaw. That was serious. Eddie needed a CT, blood work, an exam room. 

“Eddie, you’ve got a couple of head injuries.” God he must have hit it on multiple times on his way down. 

“From the chopper crash.” Eddie looked up at Buck, suddenly agitated. “We’ve got to go.” Eddie dug his fingers into Buck’s jacket and started yanking him up. “Got to keep moving.”

Buck went with it, because really had to get out of the warehouse. They were both injured, neither of them had any oxygen left, they needed a quick, easy escape route. 

Buck slung his arm over Eddie’s shoulder both to get upright and to help steady Eddie. “Let me take the lead.”

But Eddie was on the radio again speaking to someone who couldn’t respond. 

Water began pouring in from all corners of the roof; the heavy streams from the outside hoses focused on the south side of the warehouse to help cut off the growing fire. It looked like three mini-waterfalls.

The emergency lighting flickered, plunging them into complete darkness. 

Eddie’s breathing was harsh and rapid beside him.

“Eddie, we need to backtrack the way we came.”

Buck started nudging them back toward the south entrance, the water and fire creating waves of heat. Flames swarmed and fed on the roof despite the amount of water getting sprayed from the outside. 

Buck stumbled, unable to put any real weight on his foot. Eddie swayed and tripped, but he kept them going, kept Buck on his feet.

He could see familiar shipping containers and cardboard boxes, but the closer they got, the denser the smoke became. 

Eddie started coughing, his movements sluggish. Buck’s throat burned from the fumes. Their masks offered little protection. Despite his turnout gear, he could feel the heat from the fire consuming half the warehouse as they neared their exit point.

“We’re almost there,” Buck said his voice rough. He started to get dizzy.

The air hissed, wood expanding and bursting apart from the fire. But the crackling didn’t stop and the west side of the building started crumbling in on itself. 

Eddie shoved Buck toward the nearest shipping container, shielding him with his body. The warehouse shook the destruction setting of a series of small explosions.

Buck could feel Eddie flinch after every explosion, his arms crushing Buck in a vice grip. Buck managed to turn around and wrap his arms around Eddie in return, holding him, trying to convey as much safety and comfort against whatever Eddie thought was happening. 

When the rumble ended, Eddie finally let go. He stared at Buck like he couldn’t believe he was still there, squeezing Buck’s shoulders, touching the side of his face, Eddie’s breathing too fast, too heavy.

It took a moment for Buck to collect himself, to realize that Eddie had just…had just thrown himself over Buck against some imagined harm. 

“Easy, easy. Take a deep breath. I’m safe and you’re….you’re safe.” It was difficult to take large intakes of air when everything burned. Buck’s eyes watered. But he had to focus. “Eddie?”

Both of their radios came to life at the same time.

_“Buck, Eddie, this is Bobby, can you read me over?”_

“Oh, thank God,” Buck said, grabbing his radio.

“This is Diaz, requesting immediate evac,” Eddie said, grabbing his first. “We’re approximately six clicks from my last transmission, over?”

_“Come again?”_ Bobby asked. 

“Cap, this is Buck. We’re approximately ten meters from the south entrance. We need immediate medical assistance.”

_“Copy that. Hen and Chim are on their way to you. What’s your status?”_

“I’ve got a busted ankle. And Eddie’s altered, with a head injury.”

Buck let go of the radio, watching Eddie stare out at the warehouse. “Come on, we’ve got to go.”

“I’ve got to find Christopher.”

“Christopher is at home. He’s safe.”

Eddie shook his head, adamant. “I _left him._ I’ve got to find him.”

No, no, this wasn’t happening. Buck had to get through somehow. He grabbed Eddie by the shoulders. “You didn’t leave him. He’s not here.”

“But I did, Buck.” Eddie dug his fingers into Buck’s arms, wavering slightly on his feet. “I left him behind. I left you. Now the fire’s going to...”

“You didn’t leave him behind, Eddie. And you didn’t leave me.” Buck pulled Eddie closer, clutching his shoulders with no intention of letting go. “He’s home with Carla. He’s safe. I’m safe. ”

But Eddie wasn’t listening, _wasn’t here,_ with Buck, his gaze drifting toward the fire in terror. 

“Look at me, Eddie, please.” Buck shook Eddie a little, trying to get him to see, to hear Buck’s words. “He’s safe. I _promise.”_

Eddie started at Buck his voice shaking. “But the chopper crash….the…missile?” He swallowed. “Are… you…sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Because you know I’d do anything to keep Christopher safe. Please, look at me, you know me, Eddie. Please, I’m begging you. _Trust me.”_ Adrenaline and fear surged through Buck, fear of losing Eddie all over again, of not being able to break through to him. “I know I did something hurt your trust, but you’ve got to believe me. Christopher is safe. _But we’re not.”_ He took a ragged breath. “We have. To. Go.”

Eddie looked from the fire. To Buck. “I trust you.” 

Buck let out a breath, dizzy with relief. 

Eddie started draping Buck’s arm over his shoulder again when he started listing sideways. 

“Whoa, Eddie!” 

Buck reached out to keep Eddie from falling, but his bad ankle rolled out from under him. Gravity and momentum were too much. Eddie fell to the ground, Buck on top of him. 

Groaning, Buck scrambled off Eddie and onto his hands and knees. Ankle throbbing, Buck crawled next to Eddie and tried rousing him. “Come on, Eds, wake up.” He patted Eddie’s face and pulled apart his jacket giving him a sternal rub. 

Nothing. 

“No, no. this is not happening.” Struggling with his radio, Buck stared at the approaching inferno. “This is Buck; we’re pinned down five meters from the south side entrance. I repeat, Eddie and I are pinned down. We need help immediately!”

Buck looked up at the fire burning through the cargo containers, the cardboard boxes whipping the flames into a flurry. Grabbing Eddie, Buck pulled him against his chest and started crawling backwards. But it was useless. 

Holding Eddie close, Buck continued calling for help on the radio, knowing they were out of time.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

His chest burned; his throat felt like it was on fire. Buck coughed, the force of it feeling as though it would shake him apart. There was hard plastic over his nose and mouth, and it took him a minute to realize it was an oxygen mask. His eyes flew open. 

He was moving. 

He tried craning his neck, but it was immobilized. Shit. He was on a back board. 

Then everything hit him. The warehouse. The wall of flames closing on him and….

A groan escaped his lips. 

“You’re doing all right, Buck. We’re almost out.”

He recognized Chim’s voice. 

Buck could see flames, the roof moving overhead. It felt like he was on a rollercoaster, the backboard jerking in the hurried grip of the crew carrying him.

“Eddie?” Buck said, pulling the mask away. “Where’s—"

“Hen’s got him. Hold on, we’re outside now.”

Cool air washed over him. Buck stared up at the night sky. Red and blue lights flashed in the distance. People ran back and forth all around him, people yelled into their radios, the noise of the scene making it difficult to separate sounds. 

The backboard was set on the ground.

A crew member unbuttoned Buck’s jacket, while a second paramedic wrapped a BP cuff around his arm. 

Chim knelt beside him. “How are we doing, Buck?”

“I can’t put pressure on my right ankle,” he said from under the mask. “Everything else is mostly bumps and bruises.” The fresh O2 felt good against his sore throat. Buck breathed in deeply, trying once more to crane his neck and get a better look beside him. “Eddie?”

“He’s just a few feet away.”

Buck pushed up with his hands to get a better look.

“Buck….”

“He’s…he’s got multiple head injuries. And….”

“Buck, let Hen and the others do their jobs,” Chim said, a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “I know things got really hairy, but you’re both in good hands.”

Buck ignored him, listening, and watching.

Hen took Eddie’s wrist, her fingers on his pulse. “Eddie, it’s Hen. Can you hear me?”

Buck couldn’t understand Eddie’s muffled response from under his oxygen mask.

“Do you know the date?” Hen asked, pulling out her stethoscope. “Eddie, please, can you tell me today’s date?”

“Pupils are even,” one of the other EMTs said, shinning a pen light into Eddie’s eyes. The EMT pinched Eddie’s earlobe. “Eyes open to pain only.” 

A moment later, Eddie gasped and immediately started struggling against the straps of the backboard. 

“Eddie, please, you need to remain calm,” Hen said. “Everything is okay. Do you know where you are?”

Eddie’s response was garbled. Hen kept asking him questions and Buck couldn’t tell what he was saying. 

Still straining to follow everything, Buck finally locked eyes with Hen. She looked from Buck to the other EMT. “Verbal response is confused. GCS is 9. We need to transport him now.”

Panic filled Buck. The Glasgow Coma Scale was used to measure a person's level of consciousness after a brain injury.

He tried to sit up but Chim pushed him back down. “A nine isn’t horrible. It’s moderate.”

“It’s one digit away from severe.” And severe meant damage and brain bleeds and—

“Hey, look at me,” Chim commanded. “We’re surrounded by flashing lights and enough noise to cause anyone confusion. Give him time.”

But Eddie had been disoriented in the warehouse. He’d been scared and upset and—

“You need to tell him Christopher and I are safe.” Buck grabbed the edge of Chim’s jacket. “He was really agitated about that. He thought…he thought we were lost in the fire. Tell Hen that’s what Eddie _needs to hear._ She needs to make him believe it.”

Chim grabbed Buck’s wrist. “She will. Okay? Now, I’m going with you to the hospital. So, hold on.”

* * *

Buck lay on a gurney in Exam Room five. He fiddled with the nasal cannula, knowing if he removed it, he’d get yelled at. Again. The inside of his throat and sinuses felt flame-broiled, but he didn’t have any difficulty breathing.

He coughed into his elbow. Okay, _that_ might stick around a few days. 

The curtain slid open and Bobby walked in. “Hey.”

Buck grabbed the controller and raised the head of his gurney until he was fully sitting up. “Hey.”

“How’s the ankle?”

“They think it’s a hairline fracture.” Buck tried not to think about casts and downtime and…. He cleared his throat. “I’ll know more once I get the results from the X-rays.” 

Bobby nodded. “The fire’s been contained. It won’t spread to the surrounding buildings.” His gaze lingered on Buck’s leg. “It could have been far worse.”

“Fatalities?” Buck asked. 

“We think just two.”

“The ones Eddie and I couldn’t reach.” Buck settled against the gurney trying not to think about what-ifs. “Have you heard anything about Eddie? I’ve asked several times, but no one knows anything. Has anyone called Carla? Does Christopher—”

“Hen’s called Carla since she’s on Eddie’s emergency contact list. She’s been informed. Christopher is with Eddie’s aunt tonight. Everything is being taken care of.” Bobby stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I saw you sister on my way in. She was talking to Chim.”

Buck stared at the doors his mind still pre-occupied. “Do we know Eddie’s status?”

“He’s been taken for an MRI and CT. I’m not privy to the results.”

Buck stared at Bobby in agitation. “That’s not right. I mean, who’s going to advocate for him? His parents are in El Paso and his aunt is—"

“Is very capable of making good decisions for her nephew if need be.” Maddie walked in and stood at his bedside next to Bobby. “Josephina is trying to arrange for Carla to look after Christopher so she can get here.”

“And in the meantime?” Buck demanded. 

“Eddie has several members of his most immediate family already here,” she said, nodding at the hallway where no doubt other members of the 118 stood. “Ready to give advice or support when needed.”

Buck was worked-up, worried, and in pain, but his sister was a calm beam of hope. It took a second for Buck to realize he had sat up in his agitation before he slowly settled back down against the gurney. 

Maddie reached down to give him a hug. “You’ve got to stop scaring me with these close-calls.” 

“I’m sorry. It all happened so fast.” Buck remembered falling, remembered screaming Eddie’s name when he’d been trapped. The fear and unknown swirling inside him again. “I need to know how he’s doing. What did Hen say?”

“Hen said he was really agitated,” Bobby said. “But that’s expected with a head injury.”

Buck didn’t want platitudes; he wanted answers. “Would you be more concerned if you heard that about me?” Buck demanded staring at Bobby. “If _I_ was agitated?”

“Buck,” Maddie said in warning.

Buck didn’t care if he stepped over a line. He looked between Bobby and his sister. “Is he alone right now?”

“Chim might be with him,” Bobby said. 

“We should check.” Buck started looking around the room. “No one deserves to wake up alone when they’re hurt and concussed.”

“I could go see him,” Maddie offered.

Buck started pulling away the covers. “No, I want to.”

“Buck,” Bobby started to protest.

Buck looked over at Bobby then his sister signaling this was a battle they would not win. “I’m fine and I’m going to do this. Now could someone please find me a wheelchair?”

* * *

Buck sat beside Eddie’s gurney with an uncomfortable feeling of deja’vu. Eddie slept, unaware of Buck’s intense scrutiny as he studied the stitches along the side of Eddie’s head and the white bandage wrapped around the back of his skull. His face peppered with various cuts.

All Buck could do was think back to the argument right before the call, how upset Eddie had been about Buck’s research into his past. 

“You were right. I don’t know what’s going on inside your head.” Buck reached out and took Eddie’s hand into his own. “But I want to. I want to help you. And I hope…I hope you’ll let me help. In any way possible, in whatever way you need. You set the boundaries and I promise I won’t break them…until you say the word.”

Eddie didn’t wake up; he didn’t open his eyes and tell Buck that he needed him. Eddie didn’t so much as twitch.

Sighing, Buck tried to find a more comfortable position in his wheelchair. “You keep resting. And I’ll, um…I’ll be here when you wake up.”

* * *

Buck was released from the hospital with a soft cast and orders to rest. Luckily, his sister knew him too well and helped him go home so he could shower and eat then drive him back to the hospital.

Maddie wheeled him down the hallway. Buck had a book this time and a pillow for his back. 

Hen was outside the room with a thermos of coffee. “Eddie’s aunt is inside with the doctor,” she said.

* * *

Maddie wheeled Buck inside Eddie’s room with Hen behind them. 

Josephina, or Aunt Pepa as Eddie called her, sat in the hard plastic chair, the attending physician remaining out of professional courtesy. She looked at Buck, pointing at the doctor. “This young man says my nephew is bleeding inside his brain.”

“A minor contusion,” the attending physician said. “We’re going to take Mr. Diaz for another MRI this afternoon to monitor the progress.”

“You’re managing it with medication?” Maddie asked, then adding, “I used to be a RN.”

“And I’m a paramedic,” Hen said.

Translation: don’t mansplain things. 

“At this time, we don’t see the need for surgery,” the attending said. “We’ve got Mr. Diaz on a hypertonic saline drip and we’re treating him with mannitol and melatonin to reduce the edema.”

Josephina looked from the doctor to the others.

Maddie stepped closer to the older woman’s chair. “This means he’s been given medication that will make him sleep for a while so he can heal.”

Josephina looked at her nephew with a frown. “Maybe you’ll stop yawning when you visit me for dinner.” She glanced over at Buck. “He’s been so tired lately. Maybe he’ll finally get some rest.”

* * *

Buck went home in the afternoon and returned after dinner. 

Chim parked in the handicap spot so Buck could use his crutches. “I’ll come back at the end of visiting hours.”

Buck maneuvered out of the car, hobbling slightly, and looked back over at Chim. “You don’t want to come with?”

“Who do you think is going to be helping once Eddie’s released and you’re both laid up at the same time?”

Buck actually laughed. “True.”

* * *

Buck read a lot. Sometimes out loud. 

“To let go does not mean to get rid of. To let go means to let be.” Buck stared at Eddie, waiting, hoping that he’d roll his eyes or shake his head, or make some, _you reading tarot cards again_ comment. 

At least Eddie was sleeping, albeit pharmaceutically enforced. 

Buck wondered if Eddie dreamed.

Buck barely remembered his own dreams during the surgeries for his leg. But then again, he never had a head injury. 

He flipped through his book some more. “We must be willing to encounter darkness and despair when they come up, and face them, over and over again if need be, without running away or numbing ourselves in the thousands of ways we conjure up to avoid the unavoidable.”

He bit his lip because it stung. It hurt. Buck was familiar with having to pick himself back up, over and over again. It was easier to ignore his problems or blame others. It still sucked though. 

But his experiences were not Eddie’s. He’d ever seen the horrors of war, had the guilt of a failed marriage, the stress of raising a child on his own. 

“I know you’ve been in some very dark places, Eddie. Places I can’t imagine. But you made it through. You moved to L.A. to start fresh.” Buck took Eddie’s hand. “I know it’s been hard, and I know you’ve found other ways to cope. Bad ways.” Ways Buck had been too pre-occupied to notice. “But that was yesterday. It’s time to move forward.”

* * *

By dinnertime, Buck was antsy, but he couldn’t pace or walk around, and his voice was still sore from the smoke inhalation and his attempt at reading.

Eddie still lay there looking small and fragile, making Buck want to take him away from everything. 

“I know you’re tired and you’re head hurts, and you have a couple busted ribs. Thanks for telling me about those by the way,” Buck said in annoyance. “But I’ve got to leave soon, and you still haven’t woken up and I…I really need to hear your voice.”

“I’m eating your food, see?” Buck took the nearby tray and made a big display of shoveling the mash potatoes into his mouth with no effect.

Sighing, he settled back into the chair and took Eddie’s hand again. “Aunt Pepa doesn’t want Christopher to see you before you wake up. Not after…,” he swallowed. The boy had endured so much in the last couple of years. A lump settled into the back of his sore throat. His voice gave out into a warbled croak and he wiped at the tears in his eyes. “Christopher needs to see his dad. He needs to see that you’re going to be okay.”

Letting go of Eddie’s hand, Buck used the plastic chair to push himself to his feet.

Grabbing his crutches, he started to hobble toward the door.

“B-buck?”

Heart thumping inside his chest, Buck turned around to see Eddie staring at him with half-closed lids.

Letting out a shaky breath, Buck turned back around. “I knew you could do it.”

* * *

Eddie stared at Buck, his mouth slow to form words. He licked numb lips then swallowed against an awful taste in the back of his throat. “Buck?”

“I’m right here.”

Buck looked both ecstatic and nervous, which made Eddie nervous. “What?” He swallowed again, staring down at his arms, at the IV and the BP cuff. It took a second to realize he was breathing on oxygen. 

“You’re in the hospital. You’ve got a head injury. Two in fact. But you’re going to be okay.”

Buck’s voice faded in and out. Eddie tried focusing on his words, but they didn’t make sense. 

“I…,” he groaned. His head was killing him. He was nauseous. “What?”

Eddie was frustrated with his inability to keep track of his thoughts.

“It’s okay, Eddie. Just go back to sleep.”

He didn’t want to go back to sleep, but his limbs felt so damn heavy.

“I’ll be right here. I promise.”

Buck promising to be there when he woke up was all Eddie needed to submit to his body’s demands.

* * *

Eddie felt like he was swimming through syrup when he opened his eyes. But the moment he saw Buck asleep in the chair next to him, Eddie’s mind went from muddled to panicked.

He pushed up onto his hands, his arms shaking, the room spinning with the motion. But he had to get up, he had to….

Eddie stared at Buck, but he was missing something. Someone.

Where was he? 

“Whoa, take it easy.”

Eddie heard Buck’s words, but his chest felt so tight he thought he was suffocating.

“You're safe, Eddie. I promise.”

Safe. Someone _wasn’t_ safe.

“Eddie, look at me.”

Eddie obeyed, his breathing too fast, too much of a struggle. 

Buck took Eddie’s hand. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Christopher and I are okay.”

The vertigo swelled and Eddie lowered his body back to the bed, his heart still going a million miles an hour. Safe, everyone was safe.

* * *

Eddie wondered why he was stating at a ceiling. Didn’t he fall sleep inside a med-tent?

“You awake?”

He turned his head and looked over at Buck who was smiling at him. 

Eddie blinked. “Are we…in Germany?”

Buck’s smile faded. “No.” Buck used the bedrail to stand. “We’re in L.A.”

“L.A?” Eddie rolled his shoulder without pain. He lifted his hand and stared at his wrist. The GSW was gone. “I’m…home?”

“Yeah, Eddie, you’re home.”

* * *

It was hard to keep up with the time in the hospital. Everything was muted sensations of white walls and dull sounds. 

Eddie swore he’d been taken to get his head scanned twice in the same day. Maybe they had.

Every time he was wheeled back to his room, every time he opened his eyes, Buck was always right there. Talking. Holding his hand. 

“Christopher is on his way. He’s really excited to see you.”

At the mention of his son’s name, Eddie started shaking. Waves of uncontrolled trembling, the sudden onslaught on emotion bringing tears down the sides of his face. God, what was wrong with him?

“Nothing’s wrong with you. You have a concussion, and it can really mess with how you feel.” Buck’s warm fingers curled around Eddie’s. “And for the record, you said that out loud. I really can’t read minds.”

A laugh escaped Eddie’s lips, the release helping to displace the feeling of dread inside him. He grinned at Buck. “Yeah…well, we’d all be in trouble if you could.”

“I dunno; I’m sure I could put it to good use.”

* * *

Brain fog was a real thing.

His head floated. Eddie looked down at his hospital gown, patting at his throat in search of his dog tags, or his St Christopher medal. 

“What’cha looking for?”

Buck’s voice broke through the haze, his voice sounding so concerned. Eddie hated that. Hated making the people he cared about upset. 

“Eddie?”

“I’m sorry.” 

“For what?”

“For whatever I did.”

Buck leaned over the railing, his eyes sincere. “Eddie, you have nothing to apologize for.”

But didn’t he? Didn’t Eddie always have to make up for his mistakes? Wasn’t that what his mother had once said?

_Don’t drag Christopher down with you._

His thoughts drifted back into the air, floating away with the rest of him. 

That was until he heard his Aunt’s voice and a familiar sound of crutches.

“Dad?”

A sense of profound relief washed over Eddie. “Christopher,” he whispered. 

Buck lowered the rail and hobbled to the side. Christopher leaned over the bed where Eddie was able to wrap his arms around his son’s smaller shoulders. He clung to him, kissing his cheek, each moment releasing the one more knot of tension in Eddie’s body.

Eventually, Eddie let go. 

“When are you coming home?” Christopher asked, leaning against the bed.

“I don’t know,” Eddie squinted in thought. “Soon.”

“I think the doctors said something about tomorrow,” Buck said, interjecting. “After another MRI.”

Right. The scans. 

Christopher looked enthusiastically over at Buck. “Can you come over and make pizza again?”

“Let's get your dad home and we’ll see.”

Buck’s use of we did something to Eddie’s heart. He watched Buck ruffle Christopher’s hair, his son looking between them in excitement. 

Aunt Pepa raised an eyebrow—not in anger, more of, _when were you ever going to share this with me, Edmundo?_

Eddie didn’t know. At least he hadn’t been sure. Or he thought….

“Okay, your dad needs his rest so he can heal,” Aunt Pepa said, ushering Christopher toward the door. 

He didn’t want to say goodbye to Christopher, didn’t want him to leave. Eddie watched his son walk away with his aunt and his heart sank, his thoughts swirling around him again….

“You’re going home soon,” Buck said, keeping Eddie from drifting away again.

He looked where Buck sat, the same place he’d been every other time Eddie looked over. A constant inside a storm Eddie was unable to control. One he would fight hard to keep in his life.

* * *

Eddie sat on the sofa in his living room. The TV was on; he couldn’t really tell what he was watching. He thought maybe it was a documentary about wolves.

A sound to his left jolted him, and Eddie jerked his head in the direction, feeling like someone was sitting on his chest. The feeling abated the moment he saw Buck hobbling over to the other side of the sofa.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Eddie peered around the living room. “Where’s Christopher?”

“He’s asleep. You tucked him into bed an hour ago.”

Knowing where his son was didn’t lessen the tension inside his chest. The feeling that at any moment Eddie was going to have to run over and protect him from something. He tried taking a deep breath to release all the tension, but all it did was pull on his cracked ribs.

“Damn it,” Eddie hissed. Holding an arm around his side.

“Forget again?”

“Yeah.” Eddie glanced over at Buck watching him. “I still don’t remember anything from the warehouse.” The blank space in his head was disconcerting. 

“Nothing?”

“Just…” Eddie scrunched up his face in thought. “Feelings of danger.” He clenched his jaw. “I just can’t shake this sensation that I did something wrong.”

“You didn’t.” Buck looked down at the floor then back up at Eddie. “You were a little confused from the head injury. You, um, thought we were in a helicopter crash.”

Eddie stared at Buck in horror.

“But even confused you knew what to do. You freed me from the scaffolding and searched for a way out.”

There was more to it. Eddie could tell. But then again, his head felt like someone had taken a whisk to his brain.

A wave of unease swept through him again and Eddie stood and walked over to the hallway to peer into Christopher’s room, the sight of him sleeping doing little to make it go away.

Eddie stood there watching, unsure how much time had passed until he heard Buck hobble over to stand beside him. “See, he’s good,” Buck said, resting a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. 

Eddie flinched. 

Buck pulled his hand away and Eddie stared at him in sorrow. He’d seen Buck moving, expecting the touch, but his body still betrayed him.

Eddie almost apologized again but knew that would only make things worse. 

“Eddie. It’s going to be okay.”

Was it?

Dread pushed its way through him, crushing his lungs, filling him with doubt. He squeezed his eyes closed, tears threatening.

“Come here, Eds. Come on.”

Eddie felt a hand on his back, another guiding him toward the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the toilet while Buck started the shower. “Just wait here.”

Eddie nodded, still lost inside his own head. The room started to fill with steam and warmth, Eddie’s eyelids closing on their own accord.

“Okay. I’m back. Look, I think you’d feel a lot better after a hot shower. Is it okay if I help you undress?”

Eddie nodded again, the energy to even talk evaporating with the steam. He lifted his arms on command while Buck pulled his t-shirt up over his chest. He stood when asked while Buck worked his belt, sliding his pants down his legs.

“Can you lift up your foot?”

Eddie obeyed. Every ask, every command. It was easier this way, just following Buck’s lead.

Eddie stepped inside the shower.

“I figured you’re probably beat, but this should feel good.”

The water sprayed over his tired skin, warm and soothing. A washcloth slid down back of his neck, down his arms, Buck directing Eddie when to turn, when to stand still. Every touch tender and slow. 

It took a long time to realize Buck was outside the bathtub and Eddie was inside it. 

Buck smiled. “My ankle’s in a soft cast and it’d be too hard to maneuver.”

“Ankle?” Eddie said. God, his memory was Swiss Cheese. 

Buck caressed the side of Eddie’s face. “Yeah, I hurt it on the job; now, turn around. I can’t wash your hair yet with the stitches, but I can do this…”

All of Eddie’s thoughts disappeared when Buck’s fingers started kneading and rubbing Eddie’s shoulders with soothing circles, Eddie’s legs turning to jelly. 

Eddie had to lean on the front of the shower with both hands to keep from tipping over.

“Okay, now rinse.”

Water sloshed down his body, Eddie wavering slightly on his feet, Buck’s voice a soothing balm.

“Now out ya go.”

Somehow Eddie managed to step out of the tub without falling over, his body on autopilot. He sat on the toilet lid.

Buck draped a giant towel around Eddie’s shoulders then started drying Eddie’s arms and chest. 

“You still with me?” Buck asked with a chuckle. 

Eddie made a soft noise of contentment. 

“Alright, let’s get some sleep clothes on you. Think you can handle it?”

Eddie’s eyes perked up a little with a fresh t-shirt and boxers, the scent of laundry soap lulling him back into a sleep-state. 

“Come on, just a few more steps than you can lie down.”

Eddie allowed himself to be gently guided toward his room and onto his bed. He started crawling under the covers, his body so heavy it felt like he’d never be able to get up again. 

But there was one thing he was missing. He reached out— “Buck?”

“Yeah, I’m here. What do you need?”

Eddie’s throat tightened, the dread and fear from earlier threatening to bubble back up again. “I need you.”

The silence that followed almost plunged the dread deeper into his heart until he felt the bed dip and Buck curse and grumble a little while pulling himself onto to the bed next to him. “God…I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

Arms encircled Eddie, strong and encompassing, pulling him toward Buck’s chest. And fuck, it felt so good, so tender and sweet; Eddie just wanted to melt into the love and care. 

Buck’s lips pressed against the back of Eddies’ neck, kissing and talking against his skin, nonsensical, endearing words. “I’m right here, Eddie. Whenever you need me.”

And damn it, Eddie needed him, always had, but he could never ask, never felt like he should say it out loud. And now…he just felt so broken.

“You’re not broken, Eddie. You’re hurting; you’ve got some stuff to work out. Things in your head. Stuff bottles up and then it comes spilling out when you least expect it.” Buck rubbed his hand up and down Eddie’s bare arm. “I know what that’s like. Feeling unsure and fucking scared. Unable to detangle everything. But you don’t have to do it alone.”

Eddie found Bucks other hand, gripping it, rubbing Buck’s fingers with his thumb. “I want to fix things….”

“Eddie, it’s not about fixing. It’s about healing.”

* * *

Light spilled through the blinds of his bedroom. Buck slept next to him one arm draped around Eddie’s waist.

It was sometime in the morning; Eddie couldn’t be sure. The one thing he was sure of: he’d actually slept.

* * *

Eddie sat on the sofa in Frank’s office, simply breathing through a pause in conversation. He’d woken up that day without a headache for the first time in a week. It meant he’d been able to focus.

“When you were trapped inside the tunnel, your mind drifted to a time when you’d been deployed,” Frank said.

“Yeah, it brought back memories of when I’d been shot down.”

“What types of feelings did you experience at the time?”

“Fear….” Eddie sat trying to explore the memory the emotions conjured up. “But mainly it brought up feelings of not being in control.”

Just like his dreams. Not being able to reach Chris or Buck. 

“Being trapped in the tunnel reminded you of a time when you also had very little control over your situation.”

“Yeah. But something else….” Eddie looked over a Frank, clearing his throat. “Guilt. Shame.”

“How so?”

“Because both times, I thought was going to die…. And all I could think about were all the things I’d fucked up. With my son. With Shannon…with…..” Eddie stared at his hands. He was repeating his mistake even now.

“Eddie?”

“I just don’t think I can ever be good enough. For anyone.”

Frank folded his hands on his lap. “Do you believe that now?”

 _“Now?_ No. But other times…yeah, I think it a lot.” Eddie cleared his throat. “But I don’t want to.”

* * *

Eddie carried the pan toward the kitchen table where Buck was grinning ear to ear. Setting the hot tray down, he removed his oven mitts and returned with jars of cumin, oregano, paprika, a few cut limes, and some fresh chilies.

“Do you have any flour shells?” Buck asked searching the other plates.

“No. Just corn. And soft, not hard. Authentic, as my Abuela would say.”

Buck dug in, piling food high on his plate. “I’m touched that you’ve gone through all the trouble to cook for me.”

“Well, you know, I thought…you made pizza. I can make tacos.” At least Eddie hoped. 

“Well, I am honored.”

Eddie smiled. And he grinned even more when Buck made excited sounds while tearing through six tacos like he hadn’t eaten in days.

Dinner led to dishes then wandering to the sofa to debate over movies. They watched four episodes of The Mandalorian.

“I can’t believe I’m having feelings for a green puppet,” Buck said with a laugh. 

Reaching for the remote, Eddie turned off the TV, content to lean against Buck on the sofa. “Well, he _is_ pretty cute.”

“Speaking of cute, when’s Christopher coming home?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Early?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

“Well, yeah. I mean…I could set an alarm so I can leave—” 

“Or you could stay for breakfast.”

Buck’s face went through a various array of expressions. From shocked to ecstatic to very ecstatic. He sat up, beaming. “Yeah?”

Eddie swallowed. His throat tightened. “Yeah.”

Buck started rubbing Eddie’s leg. “What…I mean, what made you change your mind?”

“Because I want you in my life. That means all of it. With Chris. If, um, that’s okay?”

“It’s a hundred percent okay…. I’m just…I’m just pleasantly surprised.” Buck’s whole face relaxed. “I know you’re still working through things.”

“I am. And I will be for a while. Maybe even longer than that.” Eddie waited and watched for a hint of Buck’s uneasiness at such a prospect. That Eddie was a project in the making. But there was no sign of hesitancy, just kindness and eyes that looked at Eddie like he was something to…cherish.

It made Eddie want to take a chance. “Most people have a harder time letting themselves love than finding someone to love them,” he said, then ducked his head.

“Whoa.” All the lines around Buck’s whole face crinkled in delight. “Wait, that sounds familiar….”

“From one of your books. It, um, struck a chord.”

“There were like…several instances of the L-word.”

“Yeah, there were.”

Eddie had never seen Buck’s eye light up as much as they did at that very moment. In fact, Eddie had never seen Buck speechless. A familiar feeling entered his chest—the sensation of ants crawling all over him—but Eddie took in a deep breath and exhaled the dread.

Because Buck didn’t run away. Instead, he reached over and pulled Eddie in for a deep kiss, unlike any kiss they’d ever shared between them. It was slow, delicate, each of them taking their time, enjoying the feel of mouth and lips. Taking in every moment. 

Buck broke away first, his breathing heavy, his lips a lazy smile as he took in Eddie’s expression. “I didn’t know you knew how to do slow?”

Buck was right. He and Eddie usually couldn’t wait to rip each other’s clothes off, sex just another wave of adrenaline after a close call or a way to funnel pent up want and need. But now…Eddie had never needed someone this much—and not just physically, but emotionally, fully.

“I can do slow.”

Buck stood and started pulling Eddie with him. “Now that sounds like challenge.”

* * *

Eddie sat in the passenger seat starring out the window of Buck’s jeep as he parked.

Turning off the engine, Buck turned in his seat. “I’ll come back in an hour. You can call me if you’re running late.”

“Thanks for dropping me off. Of all days for my truck’s transmission to crap out on me.”

Buck leaned over and kissed Eddie on the cheek. “Don’t worry about it. This is important.”

Eddie wasn’t in a hurry to move, drumming his fingers on his knee. He glanced at his watch, noting they were ten minutes early. “I called Bobby this morning to set up a meeting for later this week.”

“About returning to duty?”

“Yeah.” Eddie had taken Frank’s advice and taken three full weeks off to recover even after his headaches had ended. “I’m going to ask to return next week. Make it a full month.”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

“I’m also going to let him know that I’m accepting the Department’s Medal of Gallantry.”

“Really? That’s…that’s great. You earned it.”

“I invited my parents; they’re coming for visit during that time.”

Buck worked his jaw back and forth. “I hope they’re not the only reason why you’ve changed your mind.”

“After I was discharged from the Army, I was a mess. I just didn’t know it. I didn’t want anything to do with a ceremony for the Silver Star….but now.” Eddie released his seatbelt. “Turning down this medal would be a dishonor to those who have accepted before me. But it’s also a good way for both me and Hayden to accept what happened.”

Buck quirked an eyebrow. “You mean letting go?”

Eddie snorted. “Something like that.”

The tunnel rescue was only the first of many things Eddie needed to work through. This was just the first step.

Opening the door, Eddie got out of Buck’s jeep. “See ya in a bit.”

Buck smiled at him, pride filling his eyes. “You can do this, Eddie.”

Nodding, Eddie walked into the community center, searching the entrance way for the various bulletining boards. On the top left one was a printed piece of paper.

_Chapter 76- Military Vets & PTSD Support Group  
Every Tuesday and Friday at 7pm  
5th Floor. Room 230_

Looking up the flight of stairs, Eddie took a deep breath and started taking them one step at a time.

* * *

Fini

Thank you for taking this journey with me. Comments are always appreciated :)  
Come hang with me on tumblr. https://thekristen999.tumblr.com/

 _Are You With Me?_  
By Nilu  
Are you with me?  
Are you in or are you out?  
Are you with me?  
Are you drifting through the doubt?  
Are you in or are you out?  
Don't give up, not yet  
No matter how hard this gets  
We come into the world  
Worse for the wear  
But the wars of our fathers  
Are not ours to bear  
Don't give up, no not yet  
Don't give up, not yet


End file.
